


A Man with a Mission (and a God with Nothing Better to Do)

by Arvari



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Iron Man 1, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Pre-Thor (2011), Slow Build, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 10:44:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10717833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arvari/pseuds/Arvari
Summary: When Tony Stark returns from Afghanistan, he wants nothing more than to learn from his past mistakes and try to make the world a better place. The problem is that no one listens to him and everyone thinks he's just gone crazy. Including his best friends. But Tony is angry, and he believes that he has a mission.When Loki comes to New York, he wants nothing more than to hide from his family for a while, watch reality shows and be generally lazy. The problem is that he sees a man on TV. A man who seems sad and lost. And Loki is very interested in him. And he has nothing better to do, anyway, does he?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> When I decided to participate in the FrostIron Reverse Bang, I thought I'd only write some pretty short story. But when I saw this story prompt, I knew it was bound to get out of hand. Which it did. A bit. But I don't regret it, because it was a great prompt, and I very much enjoyed working on the story! So there you go, I guess. I hope you enjoy it. :)

Tony was so fucking tired.

He felt like he hadn’t slept for days (which was pretty much how it was, except for a few times he dozed off for a few minutes) and he only wanted to go home, fall into his bed and never move again.

No, wait, a little bit of moving would be acceptable. Like lifting a sandwich to his mouth. And chewing. He could survive a bit of chewing.

He was tired. He was hungry. And right now, he was also angry as hell.

He probably should have just gone home. He should have got some sleep. A day or two. _Then_ he should have done the press conference. But no, he had to do it right after he got back to America.

And what the _hell_ was he even thinking? Shutting down the weapons division was a bad idea, and he fucking _knew_ it.

No, no, stop right there. It wasn’t a bad idea, it was just about the first _right_ thing he wanted to do in his life. It was something he simply _had_ to do, so the world could be a better place. Or something like that. He wasn’t even sure anymore, so fucking tired…

The problem was, to basically anyone else, it would of course seem like a terrible idea. Getting rid of the thing that made him money? Only an idiot would do that, right?

Okay. He was a giant idiot.

But he was an idiot with an important mission.

And it was _his_ company, anyway, wasn’t it? No one could tell him what to do with it. If he says they are done with making weapons, then they are fucking done with making weapons.

“Mr. Stark,” said a voice right next to him, and he turned to see a very uncertain Pepper Potts.

“I’m all ears,” he said. “But only if it’s not about my announcement. If it is, you’d better save your breath. I won’t change my mind.”

“But Mr. Stark-”

“Miss Potts. I will _not_ change my mind.”

It was quiet in the car for the rest of their journey to his mansion. Once there, he got out of the car and told Happy to drive his assistant home. No, Miss Potts, thank you very much, I don’t need anyone to fucking take care of me, I’m just fine and not going to drop dead the moment I’m alone.

Walking through the front door and hearing the voice of JARVIS, his AI, was pure bliss, no feeling on Earth could ever be better. Or at least he thought so, until he finally got out of his suit and shirt and even fucking underwear and slipped under the covers to get the first proper sleep in weeks.

 

Of course, his first proper sleep in weeks turned out to be restless, absolutely horrible and filled with nightmares about the cave in Afghanistan. Also very short, because hey, you can only cope with nightmares about the hell you just escaped from for a certain amount of time.

So his first proper sleep in weeks wasn’t proper at all, and only five or so hours after he’d gone to bed he found himself in his workshop, trying to drown his sleepiness in a giant mug of coffee.

“J, we’re gonna work for a bit, okay?”

“Sir, might I say-”

“You might not,” Tony smirked. “Yeah, I should be in bed. Yeah, I should be asleep. I need my rest. A human mind can’t work properly without a certain amount of sleep. Was that what you were going to say?”

“Something along those lines, sir.”

“How many times did I wake up screaming tonight, JARVIS?” asked Tony.

“Five, sir.”

“The longest time I slept before I woke up screaming?”

“Seventy-five minutes, sir.”

“Total sleep time?”

“I would say approximately three hours and forty-seven minutes, sir.”

“Well, more than I expected. What’s your conclusion, J?”

“I am expecting you to say that it is useless to try to get more sleep, sir, if you keep waking up screaming.”

“Exactly. Also, I can go for days without sleep, right? I already have, many times.”

“Way too many, sir.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“I thought so,” Tony nodded and took a sip of his coffee. Oh, it was really strong. Good. He didn’t plan on getting back to bed anytime soon. “Okay. We’ll start with creating a few blueprints, honey.”

“Sir-”

“Don’t even _try_ it!”

“I was just going to ask if I should order something for breakfast, sir.”

“Were you? In that case, yes, please. Doughnuts. And waffles. Anything sweet you can find. And make me another coffee.”

The AI didn’t even try to argue with him.

 

He only got a few hours of peace. Way too few.

And suddenly, there was Rhodey, his best friend, dragging him away from his work. Tony tried to make objections, but Rhodey simply didn’t care.

Assuming that Tony was drunk (it was really his _first_ glass of scotch on the table when Rhodey came in, damn it!), he placed a cup full of strong coffee in front of the inventor, after he’d made him sit down on a couch in the living room.

Tony wasn’t going to complain, though he probably _was_ on his way to a caffeine overdose.

“Let’s talk,” said Rhodey.

“I’m not changing my mind. Not today, not tomorrow, not in a million fucking years,” Tony replied.

“I’m not telling you to change your mind, Tony. But I want you to think this through.”

“I have. Quite a few times, Rhodes.”

“You’re still upset about what happened to you, man. I get it, I completely understand. You have every right to be angry and sad and-”

“I’m not angry. Well, I am, but I am angry because even _you_ will not fucking listen to me! Rhodes, I’ve been through hell-”

“I know. That’s why I think you should just… relax for a little while. Get some sleep, take home a girl or two, or a guy or two… Give it time, Tony. And if you still want to shut down the weapon-”

“All right, who sent you?” asked Tony, his face completely blank.

“Why would you think someone sent me?” Rhodey blinked. “Tony, I’m your friend, I can be concerned-”

“No, no. Not this concerned,” said Tony and shook his head. “Come on now, was it Pepper? No, she’d just ask you to check if I was all right. So Obie, was it Obie? Did Obie send you? Yeah, he’s the one who would be concerned about the company. Is it really bad, by the way? I mean the public’s reaction to my announcement. I wouldn’t know, haven’t really turned on the TV yet.”

“Everyone thinks you’ve lost your fucking mind, Tony. Even I do. What you wanna do if it’s not making weapons?”

“I have a plan,” said Tony.

“Do you? Would you like to share?”

“Depends. Do you really wanna know?”

“I want to know you’re not going insane, Tony.”

“Fine. I’ll tell you if you want. And it’s gonna be big.”

“Whatever it is, Tony, you should think it through first, don’t rush into anything, man, you know?”

“So you don’t wanna know.”

“I do, Tony, of course I do, I just-”

“I think Obie would wanna know.”

“He only wants to know if you’re okay and if you’re serious-”

“So he _did_ send you.”

“Tony-”

“You know what, I’ve changed my mind, I won’t tell you.”

“Stark you’re seriously-”

“Nice to see you, Rhodey. Tell Obie to send Pepper next time, she’s gonna be less conspicuous. Though it’s not that hard, you’re about as inconspicuous as a giraffe in a fucking cornfield...”

 

Two minutes later, Tony was back in his workshop.

The very same moment, but in New York, a dark-haired young man dressed in black leather pants and a green shirt suddenly appeared in a tiny, but lovely apartment. The apartment itself had appeared in the apartment building only a minute before.

“Hm… Yes,” the man nodded. “This will do.”

He would prefer something better, of course. More spacious. More luxurious. But that would be too noticeable. And he wanted to hide for a while.

He looked around.

“No TV?” he frowned. “Oh, well...”

He waved his hand and there it was, a giant television on the wall of his living room.

Well, that was maybe too much…

“Oh, no. Just a little luxury,” he murmured.

He fell on the couch and turned on the TV. He desperately wanted to drown his bad mood and anger in the stupidest reality show he could find.

The first thing that came on wasn’t a reality show, though. It was a press conference, from the day before.

He frowned and leaned in closer. Wasn’t that the man who went missing the last time he was in Midgard? Kidnapped or something like that… Yes, probably. That would explain the haunted look in his eyes…

Loki, the prince of Asgard, shrugged and switched to a different channel. He remembered one with some _really_ stupid shows…


	2. Chapter 2

Eight days since his return from Afghanistan.

Nine visits to check on him. One by Rhodey (who’d already gone back to his duties since then, lucky for Tony), seven by Pepper (who _technically_ had a reason to come to his house regularly, since he was her employer, but her constant inquiries about his mental health were still a bit too obvious), one by Obie himself (that one went even worse than the rest).

One more and Tony was going to move to a different mansion, seriously. The New York one, perhaps? Yeah, that seemed far enough to stop everyone from invading his workshop.

It’s really hard to work on a secret project when people just won’t let you keep it _secret_. The usual length of Pepper’s visits was about six hours, and she checked on him at least once an hour.

It was probably kind of sweet that she cared, or at least seemed to care, but it felt… odd, somehow. Like she was expecting him to break down any second. Or drop dead. Go mad. Something like that. Like… like she was a bit afraid of him and his reactions.

But he somehow convinced her to help him change his arc reactor to a newer model, so that was good. Her constant presence wasn’t.

He had to work on his project in secret, because if she saw… Oh, she’d probably drag him off to the nearest psychiatrist. But he wasn’t mad. He _wasn’t_.

At least he didn’t think so.

But then of course he wouldn’t know it if he was, right?

 

There were a few bumps on the road, of course. A few accidents. Like the one when he underestimated the power of the repulsors which were supposed to get him up – and he ended up crashing into the wall above him, and then falling to the ground. Well, technically on one of his cars. Poor car.

His ribs were still aching from that one. Ouch. Seriously… _Ouch_.

But then his masterpiece, his brand new metal suit, was ready. And it was beautiful. And it worked. And it was all completely worth it. Even the sleepless nights. How long since the last time he slept properly? Oh, sleep is for the weak.

He thought getting back home from Afghanistan was the best feeling ever? Flying for the first time was even better. The pure ecstasy of it, the adrenaline in his veins, the heartbeat going through the roof. It was perfect.

When he was up there, he forgot about his other problems, about Pepper trying to convince him that he should just go on a long holiday and let others decide the fate of Stark Industries (they’d start making weapons again the moment he closed the door behind him, he _knew it_ ), about Rhodey thinking he’s an idiot, about Obie’s visit that ended by them yelling at each other about Howard and how he would have never allowed this to happen. When he was flying, he felt happy, for the first time in months.

So of course that everything had to go to shit.

 

Obie’s basically taken the control over the company out of Tony’s hands. There was nothing Tony could do about it. That bullshit about protecting him? Just that – bullshit. Tony didn’t need _protection_. And he didn’t need help. He just needed people to _fucking listen to him_.

He desperately needed someone who would listen, but Pepper wasn’t answering his calls (oh, yes, he’d left her standing on the roof… shit), and Rhodey wasn’t answering his calls and calling Obadiah wouldn’t be the most logical solution, surely…

And more weapons made by his company, with his _fucking name_ written on them, had apparently fallen into the wrong hands and there was nothing Tony could do about it now, he had no more control left, no way to stop it, _for fuck’s sake_!

He was sitting in his workshop, toying with the suit’s glove, watching the news about Gulmira, watching his weapons ruining the lives of innocent people, exactly what he’d wanted to stop.

No. Wait. No control over the company.

But perhaps that wasn’t the only way to stop it. Perhaps there was a simpler, more effective solution.

Before he knew it, he’d shattered a few glass panels in his workshop with the repulsor on his hand.

And his plan was taking quite a new shape…

 

Loki Odinson, the prince of Asgard, had emptied his third bowl of popcorn and was currently searching for something new and interesting to watch.

“Boring,” he murmured to himself. “Boring, boring… ice hockey?! If I wanted to get bored to death, I could just go to Asgard and watch Thor spar with his friends! And I certainly don’t want to see any news!”

There was a knock on his door. The raven-haired prince froze.

They couldn’t have found him so soon, could they?

Cautiously, he got up and opened the door, ready to vanish into thin air if it turned out his brother was standing behind it.

It was definitely not his brother. This man’s hair was a little bit darker and definitely much shorter, he was clean-shaven (at least he had been a day or two or three ago) and wearing jeans and a T-shirt that probably used to be white once.

“Uhm. Hello?” said Loki.

“Hey,” said the man. “I’m Clint. Your neighbor. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course. Hello. Nice to meet you, Clint. My name is Loki.”

“That’s… an interesting name. I suppose.” Clint shrugged.

“Can I help you?” asked Loki.

“Yeah,” said Clint, drawing the word out and scratching his head. “You wouldn’t happen to have a VCR you don’t need so I could borrow it, right? Mine’s kinda… had a little accident a few days back and I’d like to watch a movie...”

Loki blinked.

“Have you, by chance, heard about a thing called DVDs?” he asked carefully.

“I don’t need DVDs, I’ve got plenty of cassettes – just no way to watch them, see.”

Loki blinked again. _He_ was supposed to be the alien here!

“All right, come in, I suppose,” the god sighed. “I do have my old recorder, actually. It seemed like a waste to just throw it out, so I took it with me when I was moving...”

With a slight gesture of his fingers, the required item appeared in the little cabinet under the TV. Loki opened the cabinet and handed the recorder to Clint.

“Seriously? Thank you!” said Clint. “I’ll return it to you-”

“No need, really. I don’t need it anymore, I only didn’t want to throw it away. So if you keep it, it’s fine,” said Loki. “Anything else?”

“I don’t think so,” Clint replied. “Just… Have you been living here long?”

“Not really,” Loki smirked. “You see, I moved because of a little… disagreement I had with my brother. I needed a change of scenery.”

“Let me guess,” Clint laughed. “Your _big_ bro? Always knows better than you do, always tries to prove that he’s better than you are, a bit of a dick?”

“Oh. So you also have one.”

Clint nodded and grinned.

“And you desperately want to hate him, but in a way, your life without him would be… kind of empty? You love him, even though he’s such a dick sometimes.”

“Unfortunately… You are absolutely right.”

“I know I am,” Clint nodded. “Well, thanks for the VCR. And if you ever wanted to talk about your bro, I live in flatnumber… Well, I don’ really know, just look for the name ‘Barton’ on the doorbell.”

“I will,” said Loki with a tiny smile. “Certainly.”

Clint’s attention was momentarily caught by something on TV. Loki turned around to see that he never switched the channel from the news.

“Man,” Clint sighed. “It’s really horrible, isn’t it? I wonder how did they even get their hands on Stark’s weapons.”

“Didn’t Stark say a few days ago that his company was done making weapons?”

Clint gave him the same look Loki usually reserved for Thor, and Thor only.

“And you think they’re gonna let him do it, just like that?”

“I...” Loki frowned. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“Come on, Stark Industries is a fucking goldmine, and he wants to shut it down. He says he’s got his eyes opened when he was held captive, but… He’s not the only one who’s in charge of the company, is he? Anyway, as I said, thanks very much.”

Loki didn’t say a single word, only nodded. He was staring at the TV, trying to remember the haunted look he thought he saw on Tony Stark’s face during the press conference. He still had a very strange feeling about it.

Maybe… Just _maybe_ , he should try to find out more about this man.

With another flick of his wrist, there was a brand new laptop sitting on his coffee table.

“Well,” he sighed. “The TV was getting _really_ boring, after all...”


	3. Chapter 3

“What did you _think_ you were doing, Tony?!” Pepper screamed when he finally managed to get out of his metal suit and he went upstairs to find her.

“Saving the world?” he shrugged. “I mean… the village. From the terrorists. The bad guys, you know. With big guns. Made by me, unfortunately. Which is exactly why I had to destroy them. The weapons. Well, the guys, too.”

He’d felt pretty good about what he’d done. Not about the killing, of course. Just… saving the lives of innocent people.

Right until the moment Rhodey called him only to yell at him, calling him an idiot and a selfish prick and a wannabe hero.

And then Pepper found him, just as he was trying to take his armor off, and to say that she didn’t like it was at least a huge euphemism.

Tony hated being yelled at – ever since Howard yelled at him almost every time they saw each other – but he could admit it when he deserved it.

He didn’t deserve it now.

He saved the lives of those villagers. And he killed a few terrorists. He did something good, all right? And yes, maybe he could have done more, he could have gone searching for more bad guys to kill, but it was a start, all right? It was a start. He just needed some time.

And then he would just end all the wars. Without risking the lives of innocents. And the lives of soldiers. Just him. He could do it. He _knew_ he could.

If Obie won’t let him stop making weapons, well… He has to make sure there would be no more weapons needed, ever.

He realized with a start that he’d stopped listening to Pepper’s yelling several minutes ago. He looked around him – only to find himself alone in the living room.

“JARVIS, how long-”

“Miss Potts have left approximately three minutes ago, sir.”

“Oh,” Tony blinked. “Was she still mad?”

“Would you like to take a guess, sir?”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t create you this sassy,” Tony growled.

“I am afraid that you have, sir.”

Tony sighed and allowed his body to fall onto the sofa.

“How long do we need to make the suit ready to fly again?”

“I am still running the analysis of the damage, sir.”

“Oh. Right. Okay. Could you also try to run an analysis of the weaknesses of the suit based on the fight?”

“That was my plan, sir.”

“Good boy,” Tony whispered with a smile. His eyes were closing against his will. “I think you’re the only one who understands me, J...”

 

He woke up several hours later, only slowly coming back to his senses. His neck was aching from the position he’d fallen asleep in and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to move it at all – he was, luckily.

“Okay, a new rule,” he murmured. “Never let me sleep like this again, like, never _ever_.”

“As you wish, sir,” replied JARVIS immediately. “I am sorry. I _did_ try to wake you up, but it simply was not possible.”

“Next time, just blast some AC/DC as loud as you can.”

“I will keep that in mind, sir.”

“Thanks, you’re a star.” Tony sat up, then regretted it immediately. His neck was killing him. Fuck, did he manage to strain something? “How… shit, _ouch_! How’s the analysis, baby?”

“Finished, sir. I took the liberty of creating a list of possible improvements, mostly for safety-”

“How much would they fuck up the performance?”

“Sir, your safety-”

“Scrap ‘em. Just gimme the logs, J. I’ll decide what to improve.”

“Of course, sir,” said JARVIS and it seemed to Tony that he sounds a bit more resentful than he should be able to.

“I’m sorry, J. But I have work to do, see? Don’t you turn your back on me too, baby, just because you don’t agree with me.”

“I would never, sir.”

“A thing that can’t be said about my other friends,” Tony sighed. “All right, if anyone comes knocking at my door, just tell them to fuck off. I mean, tell them that I’m not at home. Tell them I’ve changed my mind and gone to a party, they’re definitely gonna fall for it and it should make them satisfied.”

“It’s nine AM, sir.”

“Well, Tony Stark knows how to find a party whenever he wants,” Tony smirked. “But it doesn’t matter, since the only party I’m gonna have is gonna happen in my workshop. Oh, and make sure coffee’s ready before I get there. That leaves you about a minute to… _Ouch!_ All right, make that two. And how the fuck am I supposed to get up? Oh, JARVIS, I’m too old for this shit, way too old...”

 

A few hours later, Tony was forced to admit that he had underestimated his friends a little. Or Rhodey, to be precise.

Rhodey didn’t fall for it.

Rhodey just told JARVIS to open the fucking door or he’s gonna kick it down.

JARVIS opened the door, because, as he explained, the result is the same, but there will be no need to replace the door.

The result was Tony being yelled at by his friend, who was supposed to be away. Apparently, Tony’s little trip to Afghanistan was a very good reason for him to come back.

“Irresponsible!” Rhodey snapped. “Like what the fuck were you thinking, you moron? You can’t just go running around-”

“Flying around,” Tony muttered, not even looking up from his work.

“You can’t just take… _justice_ into your own hands!”

“Watch me.”

The glove he was working on was snatched from beneath his hands – and probably completely ruined because of that. Tony felt anger slowly crawling up his spine. That glove was a fucking masterpiece, he’d spend hours designing it, and more hours on the upgrade, for fuck’s sake!

“That’s your answer? Are you even listening to yourself, Stark? You _can’t_ do whatever you want, you can’t _kill_ whoever you want! Where’s the difference between you and them if you do this?”

“I’m not letting them slaughter innocents with my weapons!”

“Tony,” Rhodey sighed, trying to calm down. “It’s a terrible thing when our weapons fall into the wrong hands – but it happens!”

“And that’s _your_ answer? That it just _happens_?”

“I’m not saying it _should_ be happening, but-”

“Now tell me, Rhodes, does it also happen that our weapons kill innocent people when they’re in _our_ hands?”

“I don’t have to answer this, do I?” Rhodey sighed. “Of course it’s always terrible-”

“Save that nonsense for one of your press conferences, will you?!” Tony growled. “Terrible, my ass. How often does it happen, Rhodes? Tell me the truth.”

“You know I can’t. And I wouldn’t, even if I could. The state you’re in right now-”

“What’s wrong with me? I just wanna help, I just wanna make this world a better place!”

“But this is not how you do it, Tony!”

“If you don’t like it, Rhodes, you’re free to just fuck off!”

It was as if all Rhodey’s anger was suddenly gone, replaced with sadness Tony thought he’d never see.

“Well. If that’s what you want, Stark.”

Tony was way too angry to be swayed by it. A tiny part of his mind kept whispering that he will regret it if he lets Rhodey leave like this. The rest of his brain told it to shut up.

And then Rhodey was gone. And Tony was alone.

“How long until we can fly again, JARVIS?” asked the inventor.

“Two hours, sir.”

“Make it one.”

 

Loki couldn’t believe it when he saw it all over his brand new Facebook.

He turned on the TV. It was still on the news channel.

And the thing was there. It was real.

An hour ago, there were several huge explosions in a large U.S. Army armory, probably filled with weapons made by Stark Industries. Well, that was what the comments on Facebook said.

Possibly no casualties – for some reason, the only buildings that blew up were those with no-one in.

Everyone was talking about some missiles. It seemed like nobody noticed a thing Loki saw the moment he looked at one picture in particular. It was supposed to be taken during the attack, showing a missile flying towards one of the buildings.

Except it was flying in an entirely opposite direction. And Loki had a feeling that it wasn’t exactly a missile, although he couldn’t see it very clearly. It was mostly a red-and-gold blur. He definitely needed a better – and bigger – TV.

Now, there were people who would call it a coincidence, that only a few days after Tony Stark had announced that his company was done with making weapons, an entire armory filled with them blows up. There were people who would call it the Army’s bad luck.

Loki didn’t believe in luck, and he didn’t believe in coincidence, either. Or at least not very much. He liked to think he was way too experienced for that. And besides, he had a very strange feeling about the whole situation.

He bit his lip and swore in Asgardian.

He shouldn’t get involved, he really shouldn’t. It would only attract father’s attention to him, and Loki despertely wanted to avoid it.

But the look in Tony Stark’s eyes…

Loki shook his head. Perhaps he was mistaken. Perhaps it _was_ a coincidence.

“Yeah, and perhaps Thor is secretly a genius…”


	4. Chapter 4

The news about the attacks just kept coming – there was one every day for a whole week. Seven armories and storage houses with Stark weapons were down.

No coincidence in the world could explain _that_. And no amount of bad luck. It was deliberate.

And pretty soon, it became clear who was behind it – a man wearing a red-and-gold metal suit that could fly.

What almost nobody knew was the fact that every day, the man got two calls when he returned home – from two people he had considered his friends before it all started.

One begged him to stop, please, just stop it, Tony, it’s madness. The other one told him that once more, just once more, Stark, and you’re gonna be turned in before you know what hit you.

After the seventh attack, one of those friends snapped.

When Tony Stark returned home that day, he found several soldiers waiting for him there. Luckily, his technology allowed him to spot them before he was even near the mansion – so he just turned around and left, very quickly, without being noticed.

He was calling Rhodey a minute later – when he was sure he really _wasn’t_ noticed and wasn’t being followed. He wanted to call five seconds after he’d left.

“Stark,” was all Rhodey said when he picked up.

“Mean, Rhodes. _Mean_ ,” Tony growled.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“So it was _Pepper_ who sent soldiers to my home, is that what you’re telling me?” Tony smirked. “Sorry, I just can’t believe that for some reason.”

“Stark-”

“No, Rhodes. Fuck you. Seriously, _fuck you_. You were supposed to be my _friend_.”

“And you weren’t supposed to be completely insane.”

“I’m not. I have a plan.”

“So you keep saying. Do you really think you can stop all the wars by blowing up all the weapons?!”

“Blowing up all the weapons before _you_ have a chance to blow up stuff with them? Hell yeah.”

“It’s not gonna work, Stark. The weapons are just gonna keep coming, keep being made. And have you considered destroying _the terrorists’_ weapons, too? You know they have them, they have _your_ weapons, your bombs, your-”

“Yeah, you’re right. The weapons are just gonna keep coming,” Tony muttered. “So we’re gonna have to stop them, right?”

“You’ve already tried that. And you know, Obie was right to stop _you_. You’re out of your mind, Stark.”

“I’m not out of my fucking mind!” Tony shouted. “You’re the one who’s so eager to keep killing completely innocent people with _my_ weapons! You’re the one so eager to get our soldiers killed, even though there’s a perfect solution that won’t end the lives of so many!”

“And you think that if we don’t have weapons and _they_ don’t have weapons, we will suddenly shake hands and become best friends?”

“You fucking should,” Tony growled. “Maybe if everyone responsible spent fucking three months in a cave in Afghanistan, if they saw the consequences of this stupid _war_ , they would want to change something, too.”

“You think I’ve never seen the consequences-”

“Not the way I did!”

There was a moment of silence, then Rhodey sighed.

“Okay, Tony. Just… listen to me, okay? What you’re going through, it’s perfectly normal. PTSD-”

“It’s not PTSD.”

“Of course it _is_. Just listen. I’ll try to sort this out somehow. You just need you to turn yourself in, right now. It’s gonna be okay, I’ll get you some help. I’m sure your lawyers are pretty good-”

“Lawyers? No way in hell, Rhodes.”

“So what… What you wanna do?” The sound Rhodey made was somewhere between a sigh and a growl. “You’re not gonna get out of this easily, you know? So stop being an idiot-”

“If you saw me right now, what would you do, Rhodey?”

“You know what I’d _have_ to do. You’re unreasonable. You need help.”

“Help. Right,” Tony chuckled. “Okay, I guess this is goodbye, then.”

“Where do you wanna go?”

“Wow, you really think I’m completely out of my mind. Like I’d ever tell you, Rhodes.”

“If you think you can hide in one of your other mansions, then… Stark? Are you still there?”

There was no answer.

 

The attacks had become Loki’s new favorite hobby. The attacks and Tony Stark. Who kind of disappeared, it seemed. Everyone blamed it on his poor mental health after his return from Afghanistan… But Loki was a very skilled liar – which meant he was also very good at telling if someone was trying to lie to _him_. And when he saw that ginger (who was Stark’s assistant or something) give a statement that Tony Stark is currently on well-deserved holiday…

 _Definitely_ a lie. She probably had no idea where he was.

Also, one of the Stark Industries factories had blown up. He was expecting more of them to meet the same fate.

There was a knock on the door. Loki sighed, feeling the urge to pretend that he definitely wasn’t at home. In the end, he got to his feet and opened the door.

“Hey,” said Clint, because of _course_ it was him. “How are you today?”

“Have you run out of coffee again?” Loki smirked. Because… seriously. He had lived in this flat for only a little more than a week, but Clint had already managed to run out of coffee three times.

“Uhm, no. I just… I wanted to ask you if I could perhaps use your wi-fi today. My router had an… unfortunate accident a few minutes ago.” He gave Loki a sheepish smile. “There was coffee involved.”

Loki tried very hard not to roll his eyes. He liked this guy, even though he had no idea why exactly was that. It was a very annoying mortal, after all.

“Yeah, of course,” he heard himself saying. “I’ll write down the password for you.”

“You don’t have to, just tell me, my memory’s fine.”

Loki managed to suppress the urge to say that if he keeps forgetting to buy coffee, his memory probably isn’t exactly as great as he thinks it is.

“Thor sucks. One word, starting with capital T and ending with capital X.”

“Uhm.” Clint blinked. “Okay, write it down, thanks.”

“Of course,” Loki smiled.

As Loki went to get a pen and a piece of paper (or rather magic it up without being seen), Clint caught a glimpse of Loki’s opened laptop.

“Watching the news, are you?” the annoying neighbor nodded towards the screen. “I’d bet a thousand dollars this mysterious Iron Man is Stark himself.”

“Yes,” said Loki, scribbling down the password. “So would I.”

“I kinda hoped you’d bet me it wasn’t him. It would be nice to have a thousand dollars.”

“Sorry,” Loki smirked, handing him the piece of paper. “Password.”

“Thanks. You’re a star, Loki.”

“You are welcome.”

A phone started ringing, very loudly. Loki was sure that it wasn’t his. He didn’t have one. It took Clint a few moments to realize that yeah, the sound was coming from his pocket.

“Shit. Sorry,” he murmured after a single glance at the screen. “Gottta take this. Thanks again for the password.”

“It’s nothing.”

Clint nodded, digging for his phone. He turned to leave just as he finally put it to his ear.

“Hawkeye,” he said. He managed to take a few steps before freezing dead in his tracks. “We’re going after _whom_?!”

Then he ran back to his flat _very_ fast.

But Loki was sure he heard the name “Stark” before the door closed.

He shrugged.

Well, desperate times…

 

In a small base only a few miles from Loki’s apartment, a man was staring at a map with his single eye.

There was a cough behind him.

Nick Fury turned around and raised one eyebrow.

“Hawkeye’s in,” announced a redheaded woman. “I’m going to pick him up.”

“Go,” he nodded. “Hurry up. We don’t have time to waste. We have no idea when he’s gonna strike again.”

“Or where.”

“I don’t remember asking you a question, Romanoff,” Fury growled.

“Sorry, sir,” she said.

But it was clear there was something on her mind. A question _she_ wanted to ask. Fury sighed and gestured her to just get on with it.

“You do realize that what Stark had become during those last few days makes him a terrorist, don’t you, sir?”

“And your point, agent?”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t be trying that hard to take him in alive.”

“That’s not up for discussion, Romanoff. If I wanted him dead, I’d let the army take him down. But I’m not letting anyone kill a genius like Tony Stark just because he’s temporarily out of his mind.”

“Temporarily, sir?”

“You really shouldn’t make Barton wait too long, agent.”

Black Widow nodded and left.

 

Clint Barton put down his phone and cursed. Great. So he was now a part of the Tony-Stark-hunting team. Could his day get any better?

He poured himself a cup of coffee. There was still time for one before Natasha gets here.

He could have said no, of course. She had made it very clear. The problem was, he was way too clever (even though he was still sleepy, it was only noon!) to ever say no to Natasha fucking Romanoff.

It took him way too long to become aware of someone else’s presence in his flat. He grabbed the nearest knife and spun around.

“Loki?!” he blinked.

“I’m sorry,” said his raven-haired neighbor. “But I need to get close to him.”

“What?!”

Loki took a step towards him. And another.

“Oh, Clint,” Loki grinned. “I’d never have thought _you_ to be a secret agent of some kind.”

“Okay, you’re being kinda scary now. Loki...”

It happened within a blink of an eye. One moment, Loki was still quite a few steps away from him. Then he was right in front of him, touching his temples.

And _then_ Clint’s eyes suddenly closed, no matter how much he tried to keep them open.

“Like I said,” Loki murmured, catching the unconscious man before he could tumble down, “I’m _really_ sorry, Clint. Now… Should I hide you in here, or would my flat be better?”

The only answer he got was a light snore.

“I suppose you are right. My flat it is.”


	5. Chapter 5

Twenty minutes after disposing of a sleeping secret agent, Loki heard a knock on his door. The agent’s door. Not Loki’s door.

He quickly checked his appearance in a mirror (he had to clean it to be able to see himself) and opened the door with a yawn.

“Jesus, Barton,” said a redheaded woman dressed all in black. “You look like shit.”

He resisted his urge to check his looks once again. He was almost sure that his transformation was perfect, but… Yeah, _almost_ sure.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“And what’s new?” the woman smirked. “How many coffees have you had today?”

“Uhm,” said Clint’s mouth. “Two, I think.”

“Well, that should do,” she nodded. “At least until we get to the base where you can have more. Come on, we’re in a hurry. Grab your clothes and your bow and arrows and let’s go.”

Loki froze. What did she just say? A bow? A _bow_?!

“Uhm,” he repeated. “My what?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve lost them somewhere in your mess, Barton.”

“Maybe?” Loki shrugged. “Sorry, Nat.”

That was the name in Clint’s phone, Nat. Loki could only hope that really was what the agent (and _archer_ , apparently!) called her, not a code name or something like that, because that could get him into some big trouble.

She stepped inside the flat and took a quick look around. She spotted the bow and quiver in less than five seconds.

“You need _more coffee_ ,” she said as she handed them to him. “Clothes?”

“I’m… wearing them?”

Loki was cursing himself. It was only now starting to occur to him that this might have been a very stupid idea. He had no idea _what_ kind of a secret agent Clint was. He had no idea who the woman in front of him was.

And seriously, _bow and arrows_?! He was still in shock. He knew this realm. He visited it _regularly_ (because, unlike his _oooh so mighty_ brother he found it quite interesting and… well, amusing in a way). He knew just how obsolete those weapons were. Who would _bother_ to use them in real fight?!

Clint Barton. The answer was obviously _Clint fucking Barton_.

The woman, whose name apparently was indeed Nat, rolled her eyes.

“Your Hawkeye outfit, you idiot.”

Hawkeye. Yes, he’d heard the name before, it was the name Clint used when he answered the phone. So... a code name.

But that didn’t answer her question.

“Gimme a moment,” he said and went to the bedroom door. He had already checked where it was. And where the bathroom was. Just in case.

Although it seemed that all his mistakes and moments of hesitation would be blamed on caffeine deficiency. Good. Very good.

Luckily, he found it. A bag with clothes that _looked_ a bit like those worn by some kinds of action heroes. Dark pants, dark T-shirt, some kind of a reinforced vest. An archery bracer. And a pair of leather boots standing by the bag. He wanted to scream.

Maybe he could still wake Clint up and take Nat’s form. He was pretty sure _she_ had a nice gun or something like that.

_All right, Loki, breathe in, breathe out. You can do this. Remember why you’re doing it. Remember Stark._

He stepped out of the bedroom, the bag in his hand.

“Got it?” asked Nat. “All right. Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s.”

 

He tried not to look around too much when they got to the tiny base. He realized that it would be very conspicuous. He just followed Nat and tried to pretend like he belonged in there.

 _If someone asks any kind of question, just pretend you don’t have time to answer_ , he thought. _You need to_ _be_ _somewhere else, immediately._

It wasn’t even that hard. And it only took them a few minutes to get in front of the commanding officer.

“Barton,” the man said.

“Sir,” Loki, who’d also seen quite a few Midgardian movies, replied.

“So how do you like it here, Barton? It’s a shame you didn’t drop by earlier. It’s a bit small, but who can say they have their own tiny secret base in New York…”

“Probably not everyone, sir,” said Loki.

What _kind_ of a secret agent Clint was again?

“Sorry, sir,” Nat cleared her throat. “But I thought there was supposed to be a briefing with the rest of the team when I get back.”

“Well, brief him,” Nick Fury smirked and nodded towards Loki. “We’re trying to make this inconspicuous. It’s you two and no one else.”

“Sir?” she frowned. “Is that a good idea? I mean… We’re going against a man in an iron armor.”

“I really doubt it’s made of iron, Romanoff.”

“You’re right. It’s probably something even harder,” said Loki. “Uhm… sir.”

“Maybe we could use Hawkeye’s EMP arrow,” Nat frowned. “That would make the suit useless.”

“And, unfortunately, Tony Stark as well,” said Fury, shaking his head. “We think the suit is powered by the very same device that is keeping Tony Stark alive.”

“Alive?” Loki blinked. “What-”

“He was injured in Afghanistan,” Fury explained. “He’s got shrapnel in his body and everything that’s stopping them from piercing his heart is a little device, almost like a battery, in his chest.”

“Oh.”

“So what are we gonna do?” asked Nat. “We can’t take down a guy in a metal suit!”

“And that’s why we need to take him down while he’s out of the metal suit,” Fury smirked. “And that’s why Hawkeye is here.”

“Me?” Loki blinked. “What am _I_ supposed to do?!”

“You are setting up a trap, aren’t you?” said Nat, tilting her head. “Oh. _Oh_. A tracking arrow, right? You lure him out, Hawkeye hits him with a tracker and Stark leads us straight to his hiding place without even realizing he did.”

“Exactly, Romanoff,” Fury nodded. “Right now, Stark Industries is sending a large amount of weapons to an old storage building not too far away from New York. We expect him to strike when the shipment arrives. You’re gonna take a jet and fly there in a few hours and wait for him to show up.”

“And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?”

“I don’t care, Romanoff. Just take Barton to the shooting range or something. We don’t want our plan to fail just because our archer boy misses.”

“Sir. You know Hawkeye never misses.”

Hawkeye nodded. But Loki inside him wanted to scream and run away as fast as he could.

 

All right, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

Loki was trained in archery, of course. He was a prince, he was taught how to wield all kinds of weapons, except for his brother’s stupid hammer. He was an excellent archer. He _was_.

But ‘never misses’? He found it hard to believe that _Clint_ , the guy that forgets to buy coffee and wash his clothes, always shoots true. But if he really did… Well, Loki’s skills were probably pretty rusty after quite a few years of not using a bow. He had been relying mostly on his magic for centuries. And daggers. And throwing knives.

Why couldn’t Barton just use throwing knives, if he wanted to be all old-fashioned?!

Loki faced his target and took a deep breath. This was going to be hard. Perhaps if he was in his own body. He was still trying to get used to this one, and they want him to…

 _No, no, shut up. Focus, Loki. You can do this. You’re a prince of Asgard_.

He pulled the bowstring and aimed. It felt different. His arms were too short. The bow was not the Asgardian one he was used to.

He released the arrow. It hit the target. He wanted to laugh.

Until he heard the shocked gasps around him. And they weren’t shocked in the good way.

“Holy fuck,” Romanoff whispered. “You missed the bull’s-eye.”

He blinked. He was only an inch or two away, for fuck’s sake. But apparently, that never happened to Hawkeye.

“Coffee,” said Loki with Clint’s lips. “I need more coffee.”

She nodded.

“I’m on my way.”

 

Loki was an Asgardian.

That being said, he was very resistant to being overdosed by most Midgardian substances. He knew. Especially during the past few decades, he had tried many things. Alcohol. Drugs. And the thing he was ashamed of the most (which wasn’t hard, since he wasn’t ashamed of most of his experiments) – sugar. He had a bit of an addiction to it a few years back.

But he had never, not _once_ , felt like he had perhaps taken a bit too much of the substance, whatever it was. He never got anywhere _near_ an overdose. Hell, he couldn’t even remember being properly affected by something.

Except for now. Now, when he was hidden on the roof of the storage building waiting for Stark, his heart was hammering in his chest, his hands were shaking and his head was spinning.

He didn’t even want to know _how much coffee_ she made him drink, claiming that if he missed, he needs every last drop of it.

He never wanted to see coffee again. How was Clint still _alive_?!

Loki could only pray that his godly metabolism hidden underneath Clint’s appearance would cope with it before Stark shows up. At least partially. Enough so that he would be able to shoot true again, the way he managed to do in the shooting range.

It wasn’t even that hard when he focused. And when he gave the arrow a little magical push in the right direction when focusing didn’t work.

A hiss from Natasha alerted him that something was happening. He resisted the urge to groan. He wasn’t ready for this.

He heard it before he saw anything. The whooshing sound of the armor.

Then the first explosion came. And Loki saw him. Saw the red-and-gold armor flying around the place. And it was beautiful. It left him speechless.

Nat’s jab into his shoulder brought him back to his senses. Right. He had to act.

So he did. He got to his feet, pulled the bowstring and aimed. The only thing he wanted was to close his eyes. Which seemed like a very bad idea. Though Clint would probably still hit his target with his eyes closed, of-fucking-course.

He was sure it would be at least a bit hard for Hawkeye himself to hit the suit. It was fast. But then it stopped for a moment, as if Stark was admiring his work, and Loki knew it was now or never.

He heard a tiny beep of Nat’s phone.

“We have him,” she said as he lowered his bow. “Good job, Clint.”

“Thanks,” he nodded. “What now?”

“Now we get back to the base and get a bigger team.”

“What, we’re gonna be given a third agent?” Loki smirked.

That was when the very disturbing rumbling sound came and the roof underneath their feet started to shake.

“Nat, for the record,” Loki gulped. “Aren’t we standing on one of the storage buildings _he’s blowing up_?!”

“Fuck,” she muttered. “Run! And I hope you still have the grappling hook arrow!”

So did Loki.

But it might take a bit of magic to find it.


	6. Chapter 6

In the end, it was a pretty easy job.

Lucky for them, Stark didn’t notice the tracker on his suit and, according to plan, led them straight to his hiding place, conveniently located in New Jersey.

He wasn’t at home for more than half an hour when he was surrounded by agents, led by Black Widow. (Loki felt like he was finally starting to get the hang of the code names and real names, and he was very proud of it.)

Stark had no chance. He didn’t even have time to get into his armor.

So… here they were. In a small jet, just Natasha, Loki and Stark. The rest of the team was flying in another two jets, just as small as this one. No one dared asking, not even once, if the two of them can guard one handcuffed prisoner on their way back to the base.

Loki was constantly stealing glances at the man, who was just staring at the wall opposite of him, his face completely blank.

“Nothing to say, Stark?” asked Natasha from the pilot’s seat.

“Fuck off,” the man muttered. “Who are you supposed to be, anyway? Do you have a warrant? I want to see a warrant. And I want my lawyer.”

Loki’s lips curled into a little smile.

“There is no warrant,” said Natasha. “The only alternative to this was getting killed.”

“By whom?”

Natasha didn’t answer. Tony smirked and finally tore his eyes away from the wall, only to meet Loki’s gaze.

“People that want you dead?” tried Loki.

“Sorry, I’m afraid the list of _those_ has gotten pretty long lately.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it did.”

Loki couldn’t tear his gaze away from those eyes. So beautifully dark, so angry, and yet so sad.

“Come on,” Stark sighed. “Get me out of this. You’re not army, I’m pretty sure you’re not government-”

“No,” Natasha said, firmly. “Don’t even try that.”

“Why not? Come _on_ ,” Stark growled. “I only did what I had to do!”

“You’re crazy,” said Natasha.

“I’m not. I had no choice. If you saw what I saw in Afghanistan-”

“Shut up, Stark. Save that for your interrogation.”

“Oh, great. First, you ask me if I have nothing to say. Then, when I say it, you tell me to shut up. Hey, and what about you?” he raised his eyebrows, staring at Loki. “You’re pretty quiet.”

“I’m just listening,” Loki shrugged. “Trying to understand you.”

“Oh, sorry, is English not your first language, or are you just dumb? No matter which one is it, just tell me, I can speak slower.”

Loki laughed. Oh, he liked this man.

“I’m waiting for an explanation of your actions, actually.”

“I thought I should save that for my interrogation.”

“ _She_ said you should. I would like to hear it.”

“Would you? Right.” Stark shrugged, at least as much as the handcuffs would allow him. “The thing is… You know about Afghanistan, of course. And you know I wanted to stop manufacturing weapons when I came back home. I desperately tried to do what I thought was _right_. But they wouldn’t let me. So I… I had to find another way. Because… There are innocent people dying, every fucking day. I don’t care if they’re being killed by us or the terrorists, because they’re still _dead_ in the end. Women. Kids. And both sides are using _my_ weapons. My fucking effective weapons. And I can’t change the past, I can’t make any of them less dead, but I can change the future, and if a few people _don’t die_ because of what I did in those past few days… It was worth it. Anything you do to me… It was worth it.”

It was almost like he needed to get the words out. That’s why Loki didn’t stop him. Well, that, and also because he didn’t want to. The whole charade with shapeshifting into Clint was for this – to be able to speak with Tony Stark.

He didn’t want it to stop.

“So what?” he frowned. “It’s not your fault your company is making weapons. Your father started it. You’re following in his footsteps.”

“Oh, thanks for reminding me. My father,” Tony snorted. “Right. He was totally happy with this being his legacy. I just don’t want it to be mine. Well… Didn’t want. I guess I won’t be able to do much to change it now.”

“Sorry to tell you,” said Natasha. “But you are probably right.”

Tony’s brown eyes closed and he let out a deep sigh.

“So what’s gonna happen to me when we get to your… base, I guess?

“What would you expect?” she said. “We’ll lock you up in a cell, of course. Then you will be interrogated. The rest depends on your answers. We can end up releasing you, of course – with some conditions. Or-”

“Or I’m gonna spend the rest of my life locked away, conveniently out of sight. Right?

“No one wants it to end like that.”

“Doesn’t mean it won’t.”

“That, I’m afraid, depends entirely on you and your behavior.”

“So if I’m a bad boy and say that if you release me, I won’t stop until I’m done destroying all those weapons, I’m gonna be basically locked away for the rest of my life, right?”

“No. Only until you change your mind.”

“Changing my mind is not a plan, sorry.”

Loki saw the single tear rolling down Stark’s cheek.

This wasn’t right.

_He doesn’t deserve to spend the rest of his life in a cell for believing in something. Especially when he’s absolutely right. His methods might be… unfortunate, but the thought behind them?_

Loki agreed with it wholeheartedly. He never liked wars, hated all the campaigns Thor dragged him to, hated _killing_. He did what he had to do, of course – but never enjoyed it the way his brother did.

And now they wanted to throw this man, a man with an amazing mind, into a prison cell?

“You have got to be kidding, Nat,” Loki murmured.

“What? Did you think we’re just gonna slap his ass and wave him goodbye? Come on, Hawkeye. Don’t worry. We are landing in two minutes. You can go home and he won’t be your problem anymore.”

Loki wished she hadn’t said that.

He sighed, got up and walked to Tony Stark’s side. The man opened his eyes and blinked at him, opened his mouth to speak.

“It will be easier if you close your eyes again,” he muttered, then raised his voice again, speaking to Nat: “You will find the real Hawkeye in a flat above his own. Tell him Loki’s sorry about that. And I’m also sorry about this.”

He grabbed Tony’s shoulder and they both disappeared.

 

Loki took them to the only place where no one would try looking for them – well, at least for a few minutes.

Tony Stark’s hiding place.

The moment he released Tony’s shoulder, the man fell to his knees, clearly fighting the urge to vomit. His breathing was fast and harsh and he was visibly shaking.

“Oh, Christ,” he whispered. “Holy fucking _shit_!”

“Relax. Breathe,” said Loki. “You are going to feel better soon.”

“What the fuck was that?” Tony wheezed. “Why the hell do you look different? Who the fucking fuck are you?!”

“It was a teleportation spell,” Loki shrugged. “And I look different because I dropped the illusion I was wearing. And I am… not an agent?”

“No shit, Sherlock!”

“You really should try to breathe. Nice and slow and deep. You can also try counting to ten, I’ve heard-”

“Please,” Tony murmured. “Please, tell me you didn’t save me from them just because you’re another person on my list of people who want to see me dead. And if you _are_ , then _get in the fucking line_.”

“I’m not,” Loki shook his head. He reached out his hand to cast a calming spell over Tony (because he was starting to hyperventilate, and Loki certainly didn’t save him to let him die from shock), but the man flinched.

“Why _did_ you save me then?”

“For the same reason I pretended to be my neighbor, who just happened to also be an agent and a part of the Stark-catching team.”

“And that is?”

“To speak with you.”

Tony’s breath finally, _finally_ started to slow down a little, Loki noticed.

“To speak with me? Are you kidding?”

“I’m certainly not, Anthony.”

“No. No, please, don’t. Nobody calls me that, I hate that name.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s the name I found when I was… doing research about you. Anthony Edward Stark.”

“Research? Fucking _research_?!” For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Tony Stark laughed. “Who the fuck are you?!”

“That’s a bit harder to explain. And we don’t have time.”

“Wait,” Tony frowned. “You said before your name was _Loki_ , didn’t you? Like...”

“I’m afraid so.” Loki mentally cringed and waited for the inevitable.

“Like the fucking Norse god of mischief? The one who basically fucks up everything he touches and thinks it’s _fun_?”

Or maybe not than inevitable.

“That would be me,” Loki smiled. This was probably the first time when someone didn’t form that connection through Thor’s name. “How do you know?”

“I was into all kinds of myths when I was a kid,” Tony shrugged. “I remember reading the Norse ones, reading about Loki and thinking “yeah, I like this asshole”. Way better than the dumbass with a big hammer.”

“Definitely,” Loki grinned. “I see that you have managed to finally calm down.”

Tony blinked. Then frowned. Then nodded.

“Yeah, I… guess so,” he finally said. “You sure you didn’t save me to kill me?”

“Absolutely sure.”

“Okay, so… What now? I don’t wanna push you or anything, but getting me back to the flat you just took me from… Not a great idea. Probably not safe for long.”

“I know. Do you have another hiding place, perhaps? Because my flat is kind of… out of question.”

“Is that the flat you were hiding the real agent in?”

“Unfortunately… yes.”

“Fine. Can you get me anywhere?”

“Yes, but the further we go, the more nauseous you are going to feel.”

“Fine. New York it is, then. I have a hidden lab, slash, workshop there. And a spare armor. From there, I can move to another hiding place. So what do I do? Should I think about the place and wish to be there?”

“Actually, if you had GPS coordinates...”

“I’m pretty sure there was no such thing as GPS coordinates in Norse myths,” Tony grinned. “Glad to see you keep up with the times. JARVIS? You still here?”

“Always, sir.”

“Okay. J, meet Loki. Loki, meet JARVIS, my AI. That means-”

“Artificial intelligence. I’m not an idiot,” Loki nodded. “Hello, JARVIS.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

“J,” said Tony. “Could you give Loki the coordinates of the New York hiding place? Thank you.”

“Of course, sir. And I will also get your armor ready, and then erase myself from every piece of technology in this flat.”

“You’re a star,” Tony nodded before closing his eyes and exhaling deeply. “Fuck, for a moment, I really thought I wasn’t getting out of this. I mean… Thank you. Loki. For getting me out.”

“You are very welcome,” Loki smiled. “Anthony.”

“Tony. It’s _Tony_ , for fuck’s sake...”


	7. Chapter 7

Tony’s head was spinning again. He thought he might be dying. He knew he probably wasn’t, but the feeling was enough.

He barely registered Loki’s voice. He was just trying to breathe. And, more importantly, not to vomit. It would be a bad idea to throw up on a Norse god’s shoes. Especially when he’s just saved your life and he _still_ might decide to teleport you straight back to prison.

“That’s it, Anthony. Just relax...” said Loki quietly, just next to him.

“I...” Tony wheezed. “I just fucking told you… it’s _Tony_.”

“Well, welcome back.”

Was Tony just imagining it or did Loki just _chuckle_? Oh, never mind that.

“For the record,” said Tony, “I refuse to _ever_ travel like that again. I mean, I know I probably won’t ever even _see you_ again, but if I miraculously do, I _refuse_ to travel like that. Understood?”

“Absolutely,” Loki smiled.

“Great.” Tony took a deep breath and finally managed to open his eyes. “Okay… JARVIS, be a darling, get the armor ready, I need to get the fuck outta here, ASAP.”

“Of course, sir.”

“And you,” said Tony, looking at Loki. “You said you wanted to… talk?”

“Yes,” Loki nodded.

“Why?”

Loki shrugged, looking around him. He was curious about this workshop of Stark’s. It was… not something he’d have expected. It was small, stuffed with things and kind of messy. A place to hide on the run, but nothing more.

“I don’t know. Honestly,” said Loki. “For some reason, I find you… extremely interesting.”

“Uhm. Thanks, I guess?”

Loki smiled and shook his head.

“I just want to understand you. I… you caught my attention during your first press conference after… your return. Well, in a way. And very soon, I decided to get more information about you.”

“So what, you traveled to your realm of gods and asked your watcher who never sleeps, sorry, I totally forgot the name of that guy-”

“Heimdall,” said Loki. “And no. I Googled you.”

“Googled me. Right,” Tony frowned. “You know what, I don’t think you’re really _Loki_. I don’t know what you are, probably just some crazy guy with some pretty weird powers, but you just don’t strike me as a Norse deity.”

“Don’t I?” Loki laughed. “And may I ask _why_?”

“Well, first, I can’t believe a Norse deity would wear oversized sweatpants and a green long-sleeved T-shirt made out of cheapest cotton. And is that a _hole,_ _seriously_?”

Loki rolled his eyes, and a flash of green light later, he was standing there in his Asgardian armor – black and green and gold, leather and fabric and metal. Tony blinked at the green billowing cape and the gold helmet with…

“Horns?” he said. “Seriously? I don’t think mythology mentioned anything about horns.”

“Your mythology is full of bullshit,” Loki snarled.

“Is it? So you never went to get back Thor’s hammer with Thor dressed as a bride and you as a bridesmaid? Shit, that was my favorite myth!”

“Well, that one actually _did_ happen,” Loki grinned. “Very amusing. I wish cameras existed in Asgard, it was _perfect_. Not that perfect afterwards, the hem of the poor dress was soaked with blood...”

“Fuck. You really are Loki, aren’t you?” Tony bit his lip. “An alien from…”

“Asgard,” said the god. “Another realm. Another planet, you might say.”

“Oh. Great. Uhm… Are those clothes even comfortable? I mean, doesn’t the helmet give you terrible neck cramps?”

“They’re highly uncomfortable, that’s why I was wearing those sweatpants! But since I don’t look _godly_ enough in them for you...”

“Uhm, okay. But I kinda believe you that you’re _Loki_ now, so… You can change back, if you’d like.”

“Do you really think that I need your permission, mortal?” Loki snarled, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief. One flash of green light later, Loki was wearing his old sweatpants again, but the long-sleeved T-shirt was brand new and the print of it strongly resembled Loki’s armor. Tony decided not to comment on that, especially with words like “show-off”.

But there was another thing he _had_ to comment on.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, that just won’t do,” he said, pointing at Loki’s feet. “No going barefoot in _my_ workshop. Shoes, _now_.”

Loki glanced down and frowned.

“But I like-”

“No buts. Just do it.”

“Yes, sir.” Loki rolled his eyes and _another_ flash of green light later, he was wearing a pair of black plush slippers.

“I said _shoes_.”

“I don’t care.”

The grin on Loki’s face made it clear that the discussion was over. Tony yielded. After all, he doubted there was anything in the workshop that could damage a _god’s_ feet, and they weren’t exactly going to work anyway.

Oh, yes. They were going to _talk_.

Christ, if Tony hated something, it was _talking_. But this guy’s just saved his sorry ass, so Tony guessed he deserved to get his questions answered, no matter what they were.

“Okay, so you… Googled me,” the inventor sighed. “And then?”

“I read everything I could about you. About your past. You used to be very… wild, didn’t you? And definitely not as opposed to weapons as you are now. You used to be _excited_ about your work.”

“Well, yeah. But I’m not proud of any of it,” Tony sighed. “I got my eyes opened.”

“Yes. But _how_ , that’s what I want to know. How did the Merchant of Death became a self-proclaimed savior?”

“You really think I’m gonna tell you? You must be mad.”

“Well, I was called even _that_ in the past, so maybe I am.”

“Why would I tell you?”

There was this strange look creeping into Stark’s eyes again. He looked distant. Haunted. Confused. Lonely. Lost.

“Because it might help,” said Loki. “And perhaps _I_ might be able to help you. With my magic. Somehow.”

“Why should you?”

“You have many questions.”

“Well, yeah, and this wouldn’t be taking so much time if you just answered them. Why should you help me?”

“Because I think it would be such a shame if an amazing mind like yours was lost because of pain and anger and revenge. Does this answer satisfy you?”

“I… guess,” Tony shrugged. “So… Right. Afghanistan.”

 

“And they… They just took my company from me. All the control. Just because I wanted to do something different. Just because I wanted to do something _right_. And even my friends don’t think it’s a bad thing, would you believe that? I mean, I _know_ my mental health probably isn’t exactly the best right now-”

“That is a huge understatement, Anthony,” Loki grinned, taking a sip from his glass of scotch.

“Fuck you,” Tony growled.

“You wish.”

Tony rolled his eyes. The remark actually amused him, but he refused to chuckle or laugh. No way he was going to give the god the satisfaction. Nope. The shit-eating grin he got after moaning (but only a _little_!) when Loki magicked up a bottle of scotch and two glasses was enough to cure him from appreciating _anything_ Loki does.

For the past two hours, he was becoming more and more convinced that yes, this is really Loki sitting in the chair opposite to him, still wearing those sweatpants and armor-mimicking T-shirt and those fucking _slippers._ Loki, the mischievous fucker from the Norse mythology. Loki, who was apparently quite informed when it came to Earth. And to Tony personally.

And Tony would not, would _never_ admit it that talking to Loki actually helped, just as Loki had predicted. It was nice to be talking to someone who understood and didn’t judge him. Who maybe even agreed with him in a way.

For that, Tony could definitely survive an occasional sarcastic comment. But he was _not_ amused by it.

“ _You_ wish, Green Eyes. Everyone on Earth wants to fuck Tony Stark.”

“Everyone who _comes from_ Midgard. I do not. So I am immune to your, uhm…” The silence seemed to stretch for way too long. “Charm?”

“People _think_ I’m charming!”

“Right now, they think you’ve gone mad, mostly.”

“And you? Do _you_ think I’ve gone mad? After what I’ve just told you?”

“No. I never have. And I thank you for being honest with me, because right now, I want to help you even more than before.”

“Yeah? How? Are you just gonna wiggle your fingers, give me back my sanity, but make me forget how shitty the world is? Because if that’s your plan, thanks, I’m gonna stay insane.”

“Anthony Stark, you are one of the sanest people I know.”

“Says something about people you hang out with,” Tony grinned. A little payback, right? “So… your plan?”

“Well,” Loki shrugged. “I’m going to help you achieve your goals, of course. I cannot help you in your workshop, but I can help you with planning, I can shroud you with my magic, I can heal your wounds, if you sustain any...”

“Seriously?” Tony blinked. Like _seriously_? Is a Norse god truly offering...”

“He is,” Loki nodded. “Look, I don’t really want to return to Asgard just yet. And watching reality shows on TV gets kinda boring after a few days. I have nothing better to do.”

“I thought you didn’t want to see my beautiful mind destroyed.”

“Yes. That, too. But that’s the least of my reasons.”

Somehow, Tony knew that wasn’t exactly the truth, but he knew better than to say something. He could use some help. And someone to talk to, someone who wasn’t JARVIS. Tony loved his A.I., but a living, breathing person was what he needed. At least he thought so.

“Oh, well. Welcome aboard, I guess. When I find us a new base, you can teleport there, right?”

“Of course. I presume that you would prefer flying?” Loki laughed.

“You bet. I don’t want to _ever_ be teleported again,” said Tony. “Okay, J, honey… Gimme a map, please.”


	8. Chapter 8

“What the hell do you mean _gone_ , Romanoff?!”

“I mean we have no idea where he is, sir.”

Nick Fury closed his eye and tried counting to ten. At five, he realized that it would be useless.

“Are you seriously telling me that some impostor with strange powers not only _somehow_ managed to infiltrate our base, but he also became a part of a mission to arrest Tony Stark _and_ stole him away from _us_ , Romanoff?”

“I think you meant ‘kidnapped’, sir,” said the agent.

“I don’t fucking care!” Nick Fury growled. “So where’s the real Hawkeye, anyway?”

“On his way. I sent agents to get him. Just as this… Loki said, Clint was locked up in a flat just above his own.” The door behind her opened. “There’s coffee on the table,” she said.

“Thanks,” Clint muttered as he closed the door behind him again. “Sir, I’m really sorry, but it wasn’t my fault. He tricked me into trusting him. It was like he was a totally normal neighbor, I borrowed coffee from him! Well, he actually _gave_ me his coffee, that’s how nice he was!”

“Clint, we’ve been through this already,” Natasha sighed. “Giving you coffee doesn’t make anyone trustworthy.”

Clint took a large mug of coffee from the table and drank half of it in one go.

“Yeah, I know,” he said then. “But he was _nice_ , you know? We chatted a lot. He told me about his asshole big brother, we talked about Iron Man...”

“So he was interested in Iron Man and it didn’t seem suspicious to you? Barton… One day, I am going to murder you.”

“My dear Nat,” said Clint. “During those past few days, I talked about Iron Man with _four_ different people. Should I suspect the seventy-eight year old grandma who lives downstairs of being some kind of a secret agent, too? Loki seemed like a normal guy who ran away from home because he got fed up with his family. I mean, that happens! And the next thing I know, he’s standing in my apartment, apologizing to me and saying he has to get close to him. Meaning Stark, I suppose. And the _next_ thing I know, he’s touching my head and I can’t keep my eyes open. Look, I don’t believe in magic, but… This looked a hell of a lot like magic, you know?”

“Yes. It seemed that he also used magic to look like you. And to get Stark away,” Natasha nodded. “Magic or something similar.”

“Fabulous. And by the way, it’s just occurred to me that I’m not the only one to be blamed. Because you seriously believed he was _me_ , right?”

“Well...”

“Well yeah? I thought you were supposed to be superinteligent or something, Nat, _I’m_ the coffee-addicted idiot of our team.”

“And that’s precisely how he fooled me!” Natasha shrugged. “He seemed a bit off, yeah, but I blamed it on the lack of coffee. He said he’d only had two cups when I first met him. _Two_. You’re barely conscious after two cups of coffee, and so was he. At least it looked like it.”

“Natasha, you are breaking my heart,” said Clint, quickly finishing his coffee. “I thought you would always recognize me. You should be able to look into my eyes and say _Yup, that’s my Clintie_. And you were totally fooled by some random guy who’s only known me for a week or so and had _no idea_ I was a secret agent until he’s overheard us when you called me. And that wasn’t my fault, I have no idea how he got into my flat. But I blame it on fucking magic. Again.”

“Sir,” said Natasha, turning to Fury, “I’d like to admit that I was an idiot when I thought this Loki was our Clint. He was nowhere near this level of stupidity. I apologize for my mistake.”

Fury was counting to ten again. And failing. Again.

“You two,” he growled. “Find Stark. Find this Loki. Bring them in, now, and I don’t _care_ how much they struggle!”

“Yes, sir,” said Natasha.

“Yes, sir,” beeped Clint.

“Fucking Stark,” Fury muttered. “I’m trying to keep him alive, and this is what I get? He just runs away with some weird wizard?”

“He didn’t exactly run away, sir. I’m sure he didn’t even know what was happening.”

“I said bring them in, Romanoff, so what are you still doing here?!”

“Sorry, sir. Clint, let’s go. I’ll get you another coffee.”

“Oh. Great,” the archer grinned. “Oh, and by the way, do we have his suit? Please, tell me we have his suit. Armor. Whatever.”

“Yes, we have it. Loki’s left it behind, so-”

“Great! Can I take a look?”

“Well, since it’s currently our only clue to find Stark… Yes. You can.”

“Yes! And can I try it on?”

“For god’s sake, Barton, just _walk_.”

 

Tony was standing in the middle of his top secret lab, taking off his armor piece by piece.

“And what’s worse, it was my favorite suit! The first one I’ve made! It wouldn’t have been too hard to take it with us, would it?”

“Would it help you with this?” asked Loki, gesturing to another discarded piece of suit.

“No, the robotic arms that can take it off more quickly are back home,” Tony muttered.

“All right. So you are only uselessly complaining, yes?”

“I wouldn’t say _that_ , but-”

“I would,” Loki smirked. “All right, that’s enough.”

The next moment, the armor was standing beside Tony, perfectly assembled, including the pieces Tony had already thrown to the floor.

“What the...” Tony blinked at the suit. “Hey, what did I say the last time?”

“You mean when I spared you spending three hours of getting _into_ the suit? You said “don’t you ever touch my suit with your magic again”, if I remember it correctly.”

“You do,” Tony growled. “And what have you just done?”

“Spared you three hours of getting out of the suit.”

“You really are the god of mischief, aren’t you?”

“This isn’t mischief. This is kindness. I’m helping you,” Loki grinned. “I’m sorry, Anthony. Next time, I will let you do it your way. Your boring, endless way. Happy?”

“Yes,” Tony nodded, finally tearing his gaze away from his apparently undamaged armor. “Okay, so I guess I should say... Welcome to my top secret lab. And welcome to Alaska. Since you’re a Norse god, you should feel almost at home here. It’s kinda cold outside. Not that I’m planning on taking a single step outside. Might be kinda dangerous. But you’re welcome to go out and explore. Though I guess you don’t exactly need my permission, and you can probably just snap your fingers and go explore London or something...”

“Explore?” Loki smirked. “I know London inside out. Maybe I could explore the things that changed since the last time I was there. That was… three, four Midgardian years ago?”

“Wow. Is Asgard that boring, or are you so fond of our little planet?”

“Your little planet is very entertaining.”

“Oh. Thanks,” Tony smirked. “So please, go wherever you want. Entertain yourself. I’ve got work to do.”

“And if I remember it correctly,” said Loki, “I said I was going to help you. What is your plan?”

“Well, since this isn’t my _best_ armor,” Tony sighed, patting the suit, “I’m gonna have to _make_ it my best armor. I had some improvements ready for the one I’d lost, so it should be easy to implement them into this one. And I have a few other ideas. I guess it would be better to lay low for a while anyway, just in case.”

“I agree,” Loki smiled. “I was going to suggest it myself.”

“Oh, look. What a perfect little team we are. So you are going to stay, yes?”

“If you let me. It would be interesting to watch you work.”

“You mean watch my brilliant mind? Okay, then. But my brilliant mind needs sustenance, and this secret base is a tiny bit ill-supplied. And since we’ve made it clear that I can’t show my pretty face in public...”

“Are you talking about food, or about coffee?”

“Both, actually. But coffee comes first,” said Tony. “There’s a credit card on the kitchen counter, I think, but there might be a problem.”

“They could track us down if I use it nearby,” Loki nodded. “I have seen a few of your TV shows, don’t worry. Just tell me, would you like me to make a bit of fun of whoever’s impatiently waiting for you to use your credit card?”

“Are you really asking? Of course! But… how?”

“Wait and see.”

Within a blink of an eye, Loki was gone.

 

Tony was starting to worry that Loki had decided he wasn’t entertaining enough after all and left for good. Almost an hour since he had left. Way too long with that teleporting of his, wasn’t it?

“Damn it,” Tony murmured. “And I thought I’d finally have someone to talk to.”

“You have,” said a smooth voice just behind him. “Coffee?”

Tony turned around. And blinked.

Loki was grinning and offering him a cup of coffee. Not a coffee-to-go paper cup, no. A real one. Full of steaming coffee. And there was another cup of some brown liquid sitting on the table, next to several paper and plastic bags, apparently filled with different kinds of food.

“What. The. Fuck,” said Tony.

“You’re welcome.”

“Is that hot chocolate?” Tony frowned at the cup on the table.

“Yes. I had to pretend to be a caffeine addicted archer to get to you, so I don’t wanna see anything that contains coffee for at _least_ a week. I think I’m still shaking from the overdose. But here, have yours. If your heart explodes, it’s not my fault. It’s straight from Rome, by the way. My last stop.”

“Rome?” Tony asked, finally taking his cup from Loki. “Wait, last stop?”

“Oh, yes. Someone is going to be very confused,” Loki laughed. “Would you like some macaroons? From Paris. I also have some Swiss chocolate. Oh, and some biscuits from England, and tea. And many, many more, from all over the world. Thailand, China, Mexico… There’s a thing called shawarma somewhere, I have literally no idea what it is, but it looked kind of good, so I thought we could try it. Just go through the bags. And I really hope you don’t like sushi.”

“You hope I _don’t_ like sushi?”

“Yes. Because I have some, straight from Japan, and if you don’t like it, I don’t have to share.”

“Sorry, your godliness. I actually _do_ like sushi.”

“Damn,” Loki muttered.

“But are you seriously telling me you teleported to a dozen places all over the world-”

“More than a dozen, actually.”

“-and bought us food and snacks?”

“Yes?” Loki shrugged.

“You’re such a little shit!” Tony laughed. “Oh, yes, someone is going to be _so_ confused! Perfect, just perfect. You know what, I just hope you also brought alcohol. Like… Russian vodka. Or scotch straight from Scotland.”

“What do you think of me?” Loki frowned. “That I am a drunk who likes Midgardian alcohol so much he’s bought seven different bottles of expensive wine, and that was only a start?”

“So where is it?”

“Those two bags,” said Loki, pointing. “But might I say that you shouldn’t use drinking to cope with your problems?”

“I’m not planning on it. I’m gonna use drinking to help me work, which is how I cope with my problems.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course. Sleeping is so overrated, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea,” Tony nodded. “And by the way, the coffee is _perfect_ , thank you.”

“You are very welcome. Anthony.”

“Christ. You’re never gonna stop with that, are you? Next time you’re teleporting out for coffee, you’re gonna bring me a Starbucks with that name written on it.”

“That is _such_ a nice idea, thank you!”

“You’re very welcome,” Tony muttered. “Really _very_ welcome...”


	9. Chapter 9

Day one of laying low was pretty easy.

Even though he would never admit it to Loki, Tony was _tired_. The events of the past days were a little too much for him. He couldn’t even remember when he had slept properly. And it was starting to show.

Tony wanted to work on his armor, he really did. His current model definitely needed some major improvements.

And he _tried_ working on it. He drank the coffee Loki had brought, and then made himself some more. Not nearly as good, but definitely drinkable.

But then his eyes started to close, no matter how hard he tried to keep them open. In fact, he had a feeling that the more he tried, the heavier his eyelids felt. And his head. And his hands. And his whole body.

He woke up in bed, with no idea how he got there. He sighed and went back to sleep before he could change his mind about it.

 

Day two was perhaps even better.

It was kind of nice to be able to send Loki for just about anything Tony wanted. Steak from a particular restaurant in New York? Easy. Another fantastic coffee from Rome? Five minutes, and here it is. Palladium straight from Stark Industries’ storage? Loki grinned and disappeared like a fucking Cheshire cat.

And the sleep Tony got helped, too. Unsurprisingly, it turned out that it was Loki who had taken him to bed the night before. Tony decided not to be a bitch about it. He could imagine the cramp in his neck from sleeping on the table.

So he was rested, and even kind of happy, since he was free and not in a prison cell as he was supposed to be. And Loki was letting him work, mostly, and only rarely bothered him with questions.

Though even the _questions_ were nice, since Loki seemed to genuinely want to know the answers, and he was intelligent enough to understand them.

When Loki wasn’t asking questions, he spent most of his time lying on the couch, reading a book. Which was kind of weird. Tony would never have imagined Loki, the Norse god of general fuckery, as a lazy couch potato. Perhaps he was on a holiday from being a god? Yeah, perhaps.

“What are you doing on Earth, anyway?” Tony asked in the evening, just as Loki was making himself a cup of tea.

“I have already told you, haven’t I?” Loki frowned. “I don’t want to return to Asgard just yet.”

“That answers the question of why are you _still_ on Earth. But why did you _come here_ in the first place?”

“Because I didn’t want to be in Asgard?” Loki suggested.

“Logical. But why? Did you fuck shit up again and they threw you out?”

“Dear Anthony, believe it or not, but in reality, I fuck shit up significantly _less_ than in your mythology,” the god smirked. “Also, your mythology is not exactly accurate when it comes to certain things. Like family relationships.”

“Isn’t it? Okay. Elaborate, please.”

“Do you really want to hear it?”

“Yeah, of course. I can get to know you better if I’m gonna spend the next few weeks with you.”

“All right,” Loki smiled and sat down on Tony’s work table, a cup of tea in hand. “First, the reason I left Asgard was basically a tiny family drama. Second-”

“Second, where the hell are your _shoes_ again?” Tony growled, pointing at Loki’s bare feet.

Loki rolled his eyes, but the black plush slippers promptly appeared where they should be.

“Well, about the family relationships...”

 

Day three wasn’t very good.

Perhaps because Tony had spent all night working, substituting sleep with coffee. He claimed that he wanted to be done with the armor upgrades as fast as he could.

Loki just shrugged and fell asleep on the couch.

It took Tony until morning to realize that a _Norse god_ (and apparently the prince of Asgard, holy shit) hadn’t demanded to take the only bed upstairs.

The top secret base, which was, in fact, a tiny cottage hidden in a forest in Alaska (not too far away from the nearest town, but far enough so they wouldn’t be disturbed), with the workshop located underneath it. Upstairs, it looked like any other tiny cottage. A fireplace, a bed, a table with two chairs, the smallest kitchen counter known to man and a sink. A teeny tiny bathroom with only a toilet and a shower. And a hidden staircase to the workshop, where there was a slightly larger kitchen counter, a fridge, a couch and a TV. And, of course, Tony’s standard workshop equipment.

And Loki never demanded to sleep in the bed. He looked almost satisfied with the couch.

Perhaps Tony should have offered. Yes, perhaps.

Maybe in the evening. Tony wasn’t exactly planning on getting any sleep any time soon. And no, it didn’t matter that after the sleepless night, his eyelids started to grow heavy in the early afternoon. The only thing he needed was _more coffee_.

In the evening of day three, a terrible thing happened. Or rather, Loki did a terrible thing.

“What the fuck do you mean you’ve hidden all the coffee?!” Tony yelled.

“I mean I have hidden it. In a pocket dimension, so don’t bother searching for it. You are going to bed.”

“The hell I’m not!”

“Why not? Your hands are shaking and you can barely see. You just had your eyes closed for a full minute and you probably don’t even know it. And I should inform you that I am a terrible healer, so if you fall from that chair and break your arm, it’s going to remain broken.”

“I need to finish this as soon as possible, Loki. I need to be on my way to my mission!”

“So you keep saying. But even I cannot concentrate if I try to spend two nights in a row working. And trust me, I have tried a hundred times. It never worked, and then I slept for the whole day.”

“Clearly, you didn’t have coffee.”

“Neither do you.”

“Fuck you, Loki. I know you are a god, but you are not _my_ god, you have no right to order me around!”

“I am not ordering you around. I am telling you that either you go to bed right now, or I will carry you there once you have fallen asleep over your work, _again_. Your choice. Or are you afraid of sleeping?”

“Why should I be?” Tony growled.

“I don’t know. Perhaps… Because of the thing in your chest.”

Tony was starting to regret telling him. He still had no idea why he did it, what made him trust the god enough to explain the thing that was keeping him alive.

“You’re mad,” said the inventor. “I’m going to bed.”

 

Day four was hell.

And Tony was never going to admit to Loki that the god was right. Tony was kind of afraid of sleeping. To be more precise, he was afraid of nightmares. Those about the cave. Those about the shrapnel in his chest. Those about escaping.

They always came. Well, almost. Except for when he was really tired or really drunk.

When he woke up in the middle of the night, Tony cursed himself for not getting at least a bit drunk the night before. Maybe even tipsy would do.

He got up and went to work, again. He told Loki he didn’t need much sleep.

“You look like shit,” the god muttered. “Are you sure-”

“Yes. I am. Can I get my coffee back, please?”

Loki waved his hand and went back to sleep.

His short black hair, normally slicked back, was ruffled and a bit wavy. It made the god look even younger than usual. Almost like an innocent boy. Which he wasn’t, of course, judging by some of his remarks.

Tony shook his head.

Work. Work was waiting. And he had to do everything himself, there were no robots to help him here, even JARVIS couldn’t do much for him. But that was okay. Tony built the first Iron Man suit in a cave, upgrading this one here was a piece of cake.

If he only could _concentrate…_

 

On day five, he turned on the TV.

Or rather, he switched from Loki’s usual reality shows to the news channel.

What he saw was another village destroyed by terrorists, just like Gulmira. With his weapons.

He was just working on his right gauntlet. He looked at it. No, it definitely wasn’t battle ready. Not even nearly so.

He thought…

“Anthony?”

The repulsor on his palm was buzzing, fully charged. How did that happen?

“I thought I would be ready,” he murmured. “I thought I would prevent something like Gulmira happening again.”

“It’s not your fault. You work day and night. You couldn’t have done more.”

“I should have.”

“Anthony-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“What people do with your weapons is not your fault. I know I said I would help you with your plan, but you must stop blaming yourself like this. It will get you nowhere-”

“It’s all your fault,” said Tony.

“What?” Loki blinked. “How?”

“You kidnapped me. Only because of _you_ I don’t have my other suit, the one I could take and use it to kick their asses!”

“You have gone mad. You were going to be arrested anyway. I got you _out of there_ , you idiot. And you are blaming me? _Me_? Why not yourself? You remind me of my brother right now. Charging like a bilgesnipe, even though you could achieve so much more with a bit of _subtlety_. What did you think you would gain by destroying everything standing in your way? Nothing.”

“I thought you supported me.”

“I do. I just thought...” Loki shook his head and sighed. “I don’t like to watch you work this hard. You keep destroying your mind, _and_ your body. It is fragile enough as it is, don’t you realize?”

The god was pointing at his arc reactor.

That was the moment when something snapped in Tony’s mind. Because of course that he _did_ realize. He lived on borrowed time. He only wanted to do something with his life while he still could. And why didn’t Loki _understand_?!

All the anger that had been building up for several days (every time he burned his finger, every time he caught himself staring into nothingness, every time he almost fell asleep) now desperately wanted to get out.

Tony remembered screaming, but that was all.

When he came back to his senses, he had his right arm raised. The TV was now a steaming mess on the floor. There was a hole in the wall. And in the couch. His work table was definitely scorched. The pieces of his armor, were lying everywhere.

And there was someone behind him.

Loki. Of course it was Loki. He was pressing his body against Tony’s back, desperately clutching his arm. And was he… was he shaking a little?

“Listen to me, Anthony. Just listen to me,” Tony heard. “Calm down. Relax. Easy...”

“Let go of me,” Tony whispered.

“No. Not until you have calmed down.”

“I am calm.”

“You are not. Listen. Just listen to me,” said Loki, gently tugging at Tony’s arm to make him lower it. “Think. How did they get those weapons again? You said you destroyed them. Either they are getting them from someone in the army, or...”

“Someone in Stark Industries,” Tony gulped. “And not just a normal employee, of course.”

“No. Someone with power.”

Finally, Tony yielded and lowered his hand. He suddenly felt so tired he could sleep for days, but his heart was hammering in his chest and his brain was on fire.

“So what do we do?” he asked.

Loki wrapped his arms around the inventor, slowly, as if he didn’t want to startle him.

“I have a plan,” he whispered. “But you should get some sleep, first. You won’t help anyone if you drop dead from exhaustion.”

“Don’t wanna,” Tony muttered.

“If you are afraid of nightmares-”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I’m not an idiot, Anthony. And I can make them go away with magic. Or, if you’d prefer, I can sleep by your side, so you don’t feel so alone.”

“You can? I thought you fell in love with my couch.”

“Anthony.”

Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew Loki was right, and he hated it.

“All right. Let’s go to bed.”

 

Nick Fury was just starting to think about retiring. Five days of looking for Stark. Five days of watching his credit card being used all over the world, always by the same dark-haired man, according to the security footage. Loki, as Barton confirmed.

They tried to block the card, but to no avail. Fury had no idea if it was Stark’s or Loki’s doing, the result was the same.

Yes, retirement was starting to sound just great.

He was standing in his office, staring at the screen with all the data they had. He was guarded by Barton. Just in case, the archer had said. And suddenly, he heard a tiny sound of a bowstring being released, a whistle of an arrow… and then nothing.

He turned around to see the raven-haired man who bought Stark food and coffee and alcohol. He was smirking at Fury, holding an arrow in his bare hand, merely an inch or two from his face.

“Clint,” the man said and the arrow vanished into thin air. “Nice to see you.”

“You fucker,” Clint murmured, making Loki’s smirk grow even larger.

“I have come with a proposition,” said Loki, meeting Fury’s eye. “We want to find a the person responsible for selling Stark’s weapons to terrorists. Would you be interested?”

“Why should I be?”

“Because he is clearly more dangerous than Tony Stark could ever be. Because when it is resolved, Anthony’s work will be done and your armories will be safe.”

“Hardly my armories,” Fury commented. “And I presume that all you will want in return is that Stark gets away with what he’s done, yes?”

“Naturally.”

Fury sighed.

“And why should I even consider it?”

“Because you want him to get away with it. You don’t want him locked up in a prison cell. You only want him to stop.”

For a moment, Loki thought Fury would order Barton to shoot him. That, of course, wouldn’t be a problem. But Loki needed the man to talk to him, he needed, no, _had to_ convince him…

“All right,” Fury finally said. “Let’s hear that proposition of yours.”


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing Tony realized while he was slowly waking up was the fact that for the first time in weeks, he felt at least a little bit rested.

The second thing was an arm gently wrapped around his torso.

The third thing was the warm breath on his face.

Well, damn. So Loki really stayed with him.

Tony’s eyelids fluttered open.

Well, damn again. He didn’t have a single nightmare throughout the night, did he? What a nice change.

And was Loki still asleep, or…

Tony looked up to find green eyes looking at him. All right. Not asleep, then.

“Hey,” Tony murmured.

“Good morning, Anthony,” Loki smiled. “Rested?”

“Well… Yeah,” Tony replied. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

“Oh, was it?” said Tony, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yes. It was nice to sleep in a bed instead of on the sofa.”

“Ouch. And I thought it was a pleasure to, you know, hold me in your arms, but clearly not. Asshole.”

“You kept squirming, thrust your elbow into my ribs three times and even kicked me once. _And_ you occupied three quarters of the bed. You’re not exactly a perfect bed companion.”

“Well, you have to _tire me out_ first, I you want me to sleep calmly and peacefully.”

“You seemed pretty tired to me, Anthony.”

“Will you _stop_ calling me that?” Tony growled.

“Or what?”

“Or I’m gonna make you shut up.”

“Yes? And how would you like to do that?”

Tony frowned. Hell, what was happening here? Where was all this… _flirting_ coming from? Because yes, Tony was flirting, and he knew it. And it seemed that Loki was doing exactly the same. Unless this was a perfectly normal god-of-mischief type of communication, grinning and suggesting other people should make him shut up in some creative way…

“I think there was something about sewing your lips shut in Norse myths,” said Tony.

“You’re free to try, but if you do, you will find your name written on every possible _and_ impossible surface, probably including your own body.”

“Are you threatening me with magic graffiti and a magic tattoo? Oooh, I’m so scared.”

“You should be,” Loki grinned. “Is that the only way to shut me up you can think of, though? Anthony...”

All right, Tony could take a hint. Especially when it was staring at him with those mesmerizing green eyes.

Tony’s eyes darted to Loki’s lips and back to those eyes. Oh, yes. Well, even angry, kind of depressed billionaires with _possible_ PTSD could enjoy themselves once in a while, right? And those lips just asked, no, _begged_ to be kissed. And so did Loki, well, almost. Not with words, but…

The angry billionaire leaned in and pressed his lips to Loki’s. There was nothing gentle in the kiss, but gentle wasn’t Tony’s plan. And it seemed that Loki didn’t mind. At all. No, he gave as good as he got, moaning, burying his fingers into Tony’s hair (and Tony realized that it wasn’t in its best condition ever, but Loki didn’t seem to mind that, either)…

And then Tony tried to get the upper hand, pushing the god on his back. And Loki let him, he yielded so beautifully, with a little moan of appreciation and fingers digging into Tony’s back…

“Anthony...”

That was exactly the moment when a phone started ringing. Oh, damn it.

_No… Wait._

“A phone,” said Tony, looking up. “What the fuck is a _phone_ doing here?!”

“Oh, that. Uhm...” Loki bit his lower lip, which would be beautiful, if Tony didn’t want to know what the fuck was going on. “I might have struck some deals while you were sleeping. Well, just one deal, really.”

“What _deal_?” Tony growled.

“Does it really matter now? it’s not that important. Please, could we just… go on?”

“Go on?” It was like Tony momentarily forgot the situation they were in. But now he blinked and scrambled up and away from Loki, as if the god was hot in more than the metaphorical way and Tony got seriously burnt. “The hell we can’t. Fuck. What are you even playing at, I don’t have _time_ for that shit! What deal?!”

Loki sighed, but sat up.

“With the organization that tried to capture you. They can let you walk free. You will be able to return to your mansion, right now, if you agree with their conditions. Well, _one_ condition.”

“What condition?”

“That you will stop what you are doing the moment you capture the person responsible for selling your company’s weapons.”

“What? No way! What about all those other weapons?! I want to stop the war-”

“You can stop it _without_ blowing everything up. You can stop it and be a hero, not a villain!”

“Yeah? And will you tell me how?”

“Of course I will.”

Tony frowned. “Seriously?”

“I told you I have a plan,” Loki smiled. “Trust me. My plans don’t backfire as yours would.”

“Well if I remember the Norse myths correctly...”

“Anthony.”

There was a moment of silence, when their eyes met once again. But there was no passion in their gazes now.

This time, it was Tony who yielded.

“Fine. I.. I guess I’ll trust you, then.”

 

So there he was. Back in his mansion, officially a free man. He didn’t know how Loki did it. He didn’t even want to. He was happy with it being a secret. The result was what mattered.

And the result was that Tony could stand in his living room without fear that some agents would burst through the door any second.

True, there was Loki lying on his sofa and switching TV channels, but it still felt like home.

Perhaps even more so?

He hated to admit that he got pretty used to having Loki around during those past few days. Having someone to talk to, someone who understood most of the things Tony was saying, someone who understood _him_ and didn’t mind all his little quirks and imperfections, including not liking to be handed things.

Though Tony didn’t exactly mind it when it was _Loki_ handing him things.

_Oh, fucking shit…_

“What if I have a plan, too?” Tony heard himself saying.

The TV was promptly turned off and Loki was sitting up.

“Excuse me?” he said.

“I was… thinking,” said Tony and sat down in a chair opposite of the god. “If someone from my company has been dealing under the table, the most obvious way to expose them is to dig through the files in Stark Industries. There _has_ to be something there. But JARVIS is helpless from here, so someone has to go in there in person.”

“Go on,” Loki prompted.

“I was thinking… I was thinking Pepper. But I doubt she’d agree. She’s _so_ mad, you know? And I get it, she’s afraid I’m gonna get myself killed, but… I have to do this.”

“I know.”

“I have to give my life a meaning. I have to pay my debt for surviving Afghanistan.”

“I _know_ , Anthony.”

“And I know that what I’m doing is right.”

Suddenly, Loki was kneeling in front of Tony and clasping his hands. Tony had to fight his urge to wriggle them free.

“You know,” Loki said, “you shouldn’t be trying to convince _me_. You know that I am already convinced. And if you want to call this… Pepper of yours...”

“No. Not really. I mean, I thought we were friends, but… Yeah, I’m a horrible friend, she’s probably better off without me. So would be you, but you seem to be determined to stay.”

“I am.”

“Asgard must be really boring, eh?”

“You have _no idea_.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Tony laughed. “So what about the plan? If we don’t have Pepper… what do we do?”

“Well, we have a new, very confused secretary. I mean, we can have.”

“Can we?” Tony blinked.

Loki rolled his eyes, raising his hand and waving his fingers at Tony. A blink of an eye later, he was standing there, wearing a nice fitting suit, with his hair slicked back even more carefully than usual. He was also wearing glasses.

Tony gaped.

“Oh. All right,” he squeaked. “Wow. What a nice change. And you are even wearing proper _shoes_!”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny,” Loki smirked.

“Thank you. But tell me… Does it just _seem_ like you had this look already prepared, or...”

“I had. You know, your plan was my plan, too.”

“Oh. Yeah. Of course it was.”

Because… Shit, Tony didn’t need to know Loki was hot _and_ smart. Well, he knew, of course, in a way, but…

Tony shook his head.

“Anthony?” said Loki. “Is something wrong?”

And screw those concerned green eyes, seriously.

“I’ve told you already,” Tony growled. “I don’t have time for this romantic shit!”

“Romantic… What?!” Loki blinked. “Are you drunk? Because I seriously have no idea what you are talking-”

“Forget about it, okay? I’ll be in my workshop.”

It wasn’t running away. It was only a retreat. A fast one. Nothing else…


	11. Chapter 11

No one looked twice at a young man with slicked back black hair walking through the corridors of Stark Industries. He was looking a bit confused. Probably a newbie. Well, everyone should find their way themselves, right? If he got really lost, he’d ask someone for directions. If he didn’t ask, well, he probably wouldn’t be an employee for very long.

Loki was glad that no one noticed him. He wasn’t sure about going in with his true face (he never told Tony, and never would), but now he felt almost invisible. No one paid attention.

And he was almost in Tony’s office, according to the plans Tony had shown him. Only a few seconds…

“Can I help you? That’s Tony Stark’s office you’re heading to.”

Loki cursed inwardly. Fuck. Just what he needed.

He plastered on his best, most charming smile and turned around.

There was a red-haired woman standing there, looking determined to guard Tony’s office. Did he have a secretary? Now, he would have told Loki…

Oh.

“Pepper?” asked Loki.

Because Tony never mentioned anyone else, like no one else ever cared about him. And if she cared about the safety of Tony’s office, it _had_ to be…

“It’s Miss Potts for you,” said the ginger. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so,” Loki shook his head. But we both know Anthony Stark.”

“Everybody knows Tony. Most people know he hates to be called Anthony.”

“Oh, so do I. I just don’t care,” Loki smiled. “Now if you’ll excuse me...”

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” she asked. “Don’t you dare stepping near that office, or I’m calling the security.”

 _All right_ , thought Loki. _Desperate times…_

“Why would I want to do that?” he frowned. “I’m sorry, but there’s been some kind of a misunderstanding. I just wanted to say that I know Anthony, of course, and he had offered me this job, of a… secretary of some sorts? Well, that was a few weeks back, and he told me to find Pepper when I get here and… It’s you, isn’t it?”

“Tony didn’t tell me anything.”

“That’s just him, isn’t it?” Loki shrugged. “Though you can always call him and ask him to confirm it for you. My name is Loki, by the way.”

It was probably all right to give her his true identity. She would never be able to harm him, not even if she tried.

Pepper pursed his lips, her eyes slowly inspecting his appearance, taking in his expensive suit and shiny shoes.

“All right. I will. But right now, if you cared to follow me...”

She wanted to place a had on his arm to stir him towards her own office. But the moment she clasped her fingers around his arm, the flesh seemed to disappear. There was nothing under her fingers, simply nothing. And it was spreading, Loki’s arm vanishing in a few golden sparkles, then his shoulder…

A few seconds later, before she even realized what was happening, Pepper was alone in the corridor.

She liked to think she was a lady. But the way she was swearing now was very un-ladylike…

 

Loki was smirking when he appeared in the office. He loved this little trick of his. It worked on everyone, except for his mother. Create a clone, make yourself invisible and quietly disappear. Easy.

He turned on the computer and quickly plugged in the flash disc, as Tony had instructed. A window popped up as the scan for any files that might be of interest to Tony began.

The door opened and Loki looked up. Oh, all right. Perhaps he should have made himself invisible.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?!” Pepper hissed, closing the door behind her. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Loki sighed.

“Anthony sent me. No one is supposed to know. So if you’d be so kind as to leave, _now_...”

“Sent you why? Where is he?”

The scan was complete. And it had found something.

“Back in his mansion,” said Loki. He sat down behind the desk and started clicking through the files. “He _and_ his shiny suit.”

“I have no idea what shiny suit you are talking about. And stop that!”

But it was absolutely clear that she _did_ have an idea. Loki sighed again and took a phone out of his pocket. Anthony had given it to him, just in case.

“There’s only one number there. Call him. Ask him if I’m supposed to be here. Please, don’t make me regret that I didn’t just pop up in here as I could have.”

“Pop up?” Pepper blinked.

“Just _call him_ , okay? I swear that I’m a friend.”

“And why should I believe you?”

“Well, that’s what I get for wanting a little spy adventure instead of just teleporting in...” Loki muttered. “Look, _Miss Potts_ -”

A video showed up on the screen, leaving Loki completely speechless.

“Look what?” she snapped. But Loki was just staring at the screen. Pepper frowned and circled the table to see what was wrong. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed. “That’s Tony! With those… those terrorists! Did they send a video? I had no idea they send a video!”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Loki muttered. “Because this was only meant for one person, and that clearly wasn’t you.”

“Who was it, then?” asked Pepper, momentarily forgetting Loki was an intruder. “Wait, you know what they’re saying? They’re speaking Arabic or… something.”

“I know what they’re saying, yes. Don’t ask how. Fuck,” Loki muttered and started the download of the files. “This is not good.”

“What?!” Pepper blinked. “Look, if you don’t tell me what exactly are you doing here, _right now_ -”

“Is there some problem?”

They both turned towards the door. Pepper blinked. And Loki went even paler than before.

“Obadiah,” said the redhead. “No. Nothing important. It’s under control. it’s just that this… man has got in without any sort of clearance. He says Tony’s promised him a job, but Tony didn’t tell me anything, and now I’ve found him like this-”

The man stepped inside the room. “And you haven’t called the security?”

“I...” Pepper began.

There was a knock on the door and a pair of men came in, wearing black suits and dark glasses. Pepper could swear that she had never seen them before. And was Loki’s hand seriously glowing _green_?!

“Oh. You have,” said the man. “Gentleman, please, show this man the exit. Miss Potts, please, could you go with them? And make sure you search him for any flash discs or other devices he might have.”

“Of course, sir,” said one of the men. “You. Let’s go.”

Pepper glanced at the computer. The screensaver was on, now, and the flash disc was nowhere to be seen. How did he do _that_?

Loki sighed, standing up. He walked towards the door.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t-”

“Let’s go,” said the man in dark glasses and grabbed Loki’s arm. Pepper followed them out of the room.

“What the hell is this?” she hissed when the door clicked shut behind them. “I didn’t call any security! You are _not_ security!”

“No, they are not,” Loki smirked. “Just walk, if you want to save Anthony.”

“Save? What do you mean? Is this a threat? Why _save_ Tony?”

Loki bit his lower lip. The security guards seemed to be flicking a little.

“Why?” said Loki. “Because Obadiah Stane wants him dead.”


	12. Chapter 12

It took Loki two hours to get back to Tony’ mansion. Two hours of explaining the situation to Pepper. Two hours of repeating to her who he was and what their plan was and that _yes, Anthony knows me and he asked me to do it_.

And, of course, explaining the video. _Yes, I am sure that they were saying “the price for killing Tony Stark”, no, it definitely wasn’t “the price for letting him go. Yes, it was clearly addressed to Obadiah, the man who has now effectively stolen Anthony’s company. Yes, it means Obie’s betrayed him. Yes, he’s like a father to Anthony. It’s always those closest to you. Sad, isn’t it?_

Two hours of being yelled at to _take it seriously, or so help me_.

But now he was back in the mansion, the flash disc safe in his pocket. Finally. Anthony needed to know about this, as soon as…

“Anthony?” Loki called.

The man was nowhere to be seen.

“The workshop, sir,” said JARVIS. “Please, hurry up. Mr. Stark is-”

That was all that Loki heard before he teleported downstairs.

 

“Anthony!”

Tony was lying on the ground, terribly pale and shaking, but conscious.

“H-hey,” he whispered. “Reactor. Old. Somewhere here. Don’t know where. Threw it away. F-find it...”

His eyelids flickered shut. Loki swore in three different languages, looking around frantically. Reactor. Reactor…

No, he couldn’t see it.

He swore in four more languages, held out his hand and focused on the energy he knew Tony’s _normal_ reactor had. If there was something similar in this place…

“Yes!” he hissed when the item landed on his palm. “Anthony. Wake the fuck up. What am I supposed to do with this? Except for jamming it into your chest?”

No answer.

“All right,” Loki murmured. “Jamming it into your chest it is.”

The arc reactor flashed and came alive, and Tony woke up with a gasp. He covered the arc reactor with his hand, trying to calm down.

“Oh, thanks,” he wheezed. “I thought… I thought I was gonna… die.”

“And I’d say you nearly did,” Loki murmured. “What happened?”

“Obie,” said Tony. “He… paralyzed me. With a device, that… Oh, never mind. Help me get into my suit.”

“Your suit? And where do you think you’re going, eh?”

“To stop him. He needs to be… stopped. Come on. Gimme a hand.”

“But does he need to be stopped by you, Anthony?”

“Yes, for fuck’s sake!” Tony growled. “Will you help me or not?”

Loki sighed.

“All right. But I don’t approve.”

“You have every right not to,” said Tony as Loki grabbed his hand and pulled him up. “And don’t worry. I don’t like it, either.”

 

That was one of the last things he said to Loki. “I don’t like it, either.”

The very last thing was: “Yeah, I’ll try not to get myself killed.”

He could think of a million different things he could have said.

“Hey, have I told you I really like your ass? Because it’s lovely.” For example.

Or perhaps: “Thanks for not letting me go completely mad those past few days.”

Or even: “If I get out of this alive, I might even have time for that, you know… kissing stuff. Or fucking stuff. I mean if you want.”

Literally anything would have been better, especially with Loki looking at him with those beautiful, bright green eyes.

Unfortunately, Tony wasn’t going to see those eyes again, and say the words he wanted to say.

Because he had found Obie. Or was it the other way around?

And he thought he’d won, oh dear, he really thought he’d won. When he lured the man to fly too high, high enough for the frost to get him, make his armor useless, take him down.

When Obie fell, Tony thought it was over.

As it turned out when Tony landed on the rooftop of the reactor building in Stark Industries… it was far from over.

Tony’s armor was almost out of energy, and he was facing this iron monster again. There was no way out.

Maybe it _was_ over. Just different kind of over than Tony would like.

He almost wanted to close his eyes and wait for the final blow. But he couldn’t. He had to try to stop it.

Obie was mad. Obie was selling Tony’s weapons to the bad guys. If he wins…

“Hey! You metal bilgesnipe!”

“Oh, fuck,” Tony muttered.

Because of _course_ that Loki would show up. Of course that he would find Tony. And of-fucking-course that he was gonna show up in his Asgardian armor and with a pair of daggers, like _they could fucking help against a metal suit_.

And Tony was going to _kill him_ if they got out of it alive. Slowly. Painfully. _Kill him_.

But if he wanted to distract Obie, hey, it was working.

“And who are you supposed to be?” said the metal thing, turning to face Loki. “Oh. It’s you. I hope you found what you were looking for in that computer.”

“I did, yes. A perfect reason to kill you,” Loki smirked.

“ _Kill_ me?” Obie laughed. “How are you planning to do that? Even Tony couldn’t kill me in that suit of his! And you wanna try it with two knives?”

The metal thing went for Loki. Tony tried to stop it, he really did, but shooting his repulsors (weak, so weak, he needed more _energy_ , dammit!) had no effect. He could only hope that Loki was able to take care of himself.

Which he was, of course. He was perfect, and fast. When the suit got near, Loki took a quick step forward and drove his daggers right into the arc reactor in the chest. He didn’t destroy it. But it looked like he managed to damage it. The blue light flickered. Loki’s hands were glowing green.

Of course. Asgardian steel, probably, combined with Loki’s superhuman strength _and_ magic. Apparently, that was the way to go.

It was also hot as hell.

Obie screamed and brought the suit’s fist to Loki’s stomach. Or he would have, if Loki (or just the image of him?) didn’t disappear the moment when the metal hand touched him.

“Brace yourself,” Loki’s voice whispered to Tony, very, very close. But Tony couldn’t see him. “I’m gonna give you a little push.”

“Listen,” Tony murmured. “I have a plan that might work. We could use the arc reactor in the building below-”

“Shush,” Loki growled, making himself visible as Obie went for another of his images. “Can you take him down?”

Tony could feel the energy surging through his own body. It was awesome. Holy shit, was Loki really recharging his battery?

“I can try. If you help me,” said Tony.

Obie was turning around.

All right. It seemed that it was Tony’s turn to entertain him now.

“So let’s go. I will try to destroy the reactor. You will destroy _him_.” Loki’s voice was cold, calculating, the voice of a warrior used to seeing things like this. Just how many battles he had fought in?

“Loki...”

“Good luck, Anthony. And by the way, I _really_ like your eyes. I just wanted you to know.”

“Oh. Thanks. I like your ass, too. Eyes, I mean.”

Loki laughed, and he was gone.

 

In the end, it was quick.

Obadiah’s giant metal armor was way too slow for the two of them. Tony was pretty fast in his newly charged suit (or at least partially charged), and Loki was like a fucking ballet dancer, only much deadlier.

Tony didn’t even know how it happened, not exactly. He only knew that he gave all that he could into one big repulsor blast, and then… Obadiah wasn’t moving anymore.

Tony sat down, hard. Was it finally over? Was it _really_ finally over?

“Anthony?”

He’d already lost his helmet. So he merely looked up at Loki.

“We did it,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Yes. We did,” the god smiled. “Are you injured?”

“Not sure. Just scratches, I think. I… think the reactor’s energy level is a bit down again, but-”

“Well, let’s take care of that, first.”

Loki placed his hand on the armor’s chest and Tony didn’t even flinch. He knew that Loki would never hurt him. He…

“You risked your life protecting me. Why?”

“You call _that_ risking my life? It was only a bit of fun, really.”

“A bit of fun? Are you mad?”

“Possibly,” Loki laughed. “And I’ve _told_ you I can’t let anything happen to that brilliant mind of yours.”

“You still think I’m brilliant?”

“Oh, yes. More than ever, once I got to know you.”

“You’re definitely mad,” Tony smiled. “And do you _really_ like my eyes?”

“I do.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence, interrupted by Tony in the end.

“Loki? Thanks for not letting me go crazy those past few days.”

“You are welcome, Anthony.”

Tony wanted to ask a question, oh, he did. A very important question. But he didn’t dare.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

So he was just looking into Loki’s eyes, and before he realized it, he was leaning closer, closer…

Their lips were only touching for a fraction of second, when Tony heard a crack of thunder. Strange, there weren’t any storms around…

Loki growled.

“Oh, no. No, not _now_...”

“What?” Tony blinked. “What is...”

“What do you think? My _brother_...”


	13. Chapter 13

“And why… Pepper, you’re gonna poke my eye out like this!”

“I might, if you won’t stop _twitching_ so much.”

“What do I even need the makeup for?”

“So no one sees your black eye, because if they do, they might realize that you are the Iron Man,” Pepper growled. “Now sit _still_.”

“Why can’t they know? I like the name. It has a nice ring to it-”

“Tony, seriously. Stop.”

“And why should _anyone_ believe that some random bodyguard got into an experimental suit and went to save the world? Or… city. Agent? Any suggestions?”

The man in front of him sighed.

“You will have to make them believe it, Mr. Stark.”

“Sorry, I’m not a good liar.”

“You will have to learn to be one, and quickly.”

Tony closed his eyes, completely resigned. Yeah. He’d love to. He could learn from the best, right?

Right…

“Fine. Do what you have to, Pepper,” he murmured. “I’ll do whatever you lot want me to.”

Oh, how he wanted to learn from the best…

 

“ _Your brother doesn’t seem very… friendly.”_

_Loki glanced towards the place where a muscular blond was standing, holding an uncomfortably big hammer and glaring at Tony._

“ _He thinks that I only got into this battle because of you.”_

“ _But you did.”_

“ _Yes. As opposed to actually_ wanting _to fight, as I am supposed to. He also probably thinks that we have done_ unmanly _things together.”_

“ _Like what, manicure?”_

“ _Like fucking, Anthony. And if he thinks that_ I _am the unmanly one because of you, meaning the_ bottom _one, if you need a translation...”_

“ _You Asgardians have a problem with two guys fucking? Wow,” Tony blinked. “Seriously?”_

“ _What can I say? I don’t exactly fit in,” Loki grinned. “Besides, we have never done anything like that. I’m just gonna have to explain it to him. And, you know… explain where I was those past few weeks.”_

“ _Right. So you’re… leaving,” Tony murmured._

“ _I am afraid so.”_

_And here it was, the question Tony was so scared to ask. And just as it was answered, another one popped up._

“ _Will you come back?”_

“ _I’d like to,” Loki smiled._

“ _When?”_

“ _Soon.”_

“ _Do you_ really _have to go?”_

_Tony felt like a whiny teenager, but he just couldn’t help it._

“ _I am afraid so,” Loki nodded. Then, after a slight hesitation, he leaned in and gave Tony a light kiss on the lips. Another crack of thunder. “See you, Anthony.”_

“ _See you,” Tony murmured._

_Loki started to walk towards his brother. But after a few steps, he turned around and winked._

“ _Oh, and by the way, when we do see each other again, I will gladly let you make me_ unmanly _.”_

_Right._

_Now_ that _was something to look forward to…_

 

God, why was Tony feeling so terrible? Nothing happened between Loki and him. Nothing, except for a few kisses, and definitely some attraction, but…

So why was he feeling like this? Like he’d lost someone he cared about?

The realization hit him like a struck of lightning.

Because he _had_.

Because Loki… Loki wasn’t just hot as hell.

Loki was smart. And cheeky. And a bit of a sarcastic bastard.

A bit like Tony himself, really.

He was also brave. Because seriously, taking on a guy in a metal armor with only two daggers? He was either brave, or a complete idiot.

Not that Tony would mind the second option, no.

Tony sighed.

Shit, and he loved those little quirks of Loki’s. Like not wearing shoes. Or those baggy sweatpants no one would ever expect an Asgardian prince to wear. His little obsession with reality shows. And the way his expressions changed while reading. And stubbornly calling Tony “Anthony”, despite being told a billion times to stop.

Oh, Tony would give everything he had if he could hear it again, hear his true name, the name he refused to use, said by those lovely lips…

“Anthony.”

His eyes snapped open.

“Loki!”

He _did_ come back. And he looked amazing, wearing a black suit, apparently all ready for the press conference. As if he was invited.

Tony jumped to his feet, grinning wide, and threw himself at the god, who promptly embraced him. And kissed him. And looked into his eyes.

And Tony seriously didn’t care about a surprised Pepper and an even _more_ surprised secret agent, whose name Tony’s kinda forgotten.

“Are you wearing makeup?” Loki asked, frowning.

“To conceal my injuries,” said Tony.

“Why? You are a warrior. You should wear them proudly.”

“Yeah, but you remember Barton’s secret organization you so nicely infiltrated? They don’t want anyone to know that I am a mighty warrior.”

“I didn’t say mighty,” Loki frowned.

Tony couldn’t help it. He laughed and kissed him again.

“Dear god, I missed you...”

“Loki will do.”

The agent cleared his throat.

“Mr. Stark. It’s time.”

“Oh. Right,” Tony nodded. “All right, Lokes. Let’s deny that it was me in the suit, right?”

“Even though I think that you are making a mistake, your secret is safe with me, my dear.”

Oh. _My dear_. Tony felt like he was melting.

“By the way, does the offer still stand? For, you know… me debauching you later? Like… tonight?”

“That depends. Do you have time for that romantic shit?” Loki grinned.

“Oh, yes. Yes, I definitely do now.”

 

He was standing in front of all those journalists, more nervous than ever. And he shouldn’t be, right? There was no need to be nervous.

All right, Tony, deep breath. You can do this.

“There's been speculation that I was involved in the events that occurred on the freeway and the rooftop...”

And of course, the reporter he’d slept with once (was it Christine?) had to cut in. “I'm sorry, Mr. Stark,” she said, “but do you honestly expect us to believe that that was a bodyguard in a suit that conveniently appeared, despite the fact that...”

Just what he needed, right.

“I know that it's confusing,” he replied. “It is one thing to question the official story, and another thing entirely to make wild accusations, or insinuate that I'm a superhero.”

“I never said you were a superhero.”

Tony blinked. “Didn't?”

Her smile said exactly what her thoughts about him were. “Mmm-mmm.”

He had to go on. But he wasn’t a good liar, and hey. He _was_ a superhero!

“Well, good,” he murmured. “Because that would be outlandish and, uh, fantastic. I'm just not the hero type. Clearly. With this laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I've made, largely public...”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Rhodey shift behind him, leaning closer.

“Just stick to the cards, man,” he whispered.

Tony nodded. That was probably a good idea.

“Yeah, okay,” he sighed.

He held up his notes, but something else caught his attention. Loki, standing behind all those journalists, rolling his eyes. Right. Loki thought Tony was making a mistake. And perhaps he was. But he didn’t want the world to know the truth, did he?

He took a deep breath.

“The truth is...”

Loki smiled at him encouragingly. He might not agree with Tony, but he was going to support him, clearly.

When Tony looked into those green eyes, he knew what he had to say.

“I am Iron Man.”

After that, all hell broke loose. Everyone was shouting questions at him, the photographers were snapping pictures, everything was so loud and the flashes so bright… But the only thing Tony could see was Loki.

Loki and his wide, mischievous, and definitely proud grin.

The god winked.

And Tony was a _tiny_ bit tempted to try the teleportation again.

His bedroom wasn’t _so_ far away, was it?


End file.
